


Beautiful Dreams

by Quickspinner



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Character deaths have all occurred prior to story beginning, Emotional Baggage, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Endgame Lukanette, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Music Teacher Luka Couffaine, New Beginnings, References to Depression, Single Parent Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, background Julerose - Freeform, new dreams, no deaths on screen, past adrienette, sometimes you get what you want and you still end up unhappy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23743075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner
Summary: It’s been years since Luka’s spoken to his old friend Adrien. Of course he heard about Adrien's divorce--it was big news when the golden boy of fashion split with his wife and head designer, but Luka’s had his own problems and his own losses to worry about. He doesn’t think much about it when Adrien brings his son Louis in for music lessons, until he meet’s Louis’ mother and Adrien’s ex-wife, Marinette. Suddenly his life is a whole lot more interesting, and a whole lot more complicated.
Relationships: Juleka Couffaine & Luka Couffaine, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 166
Kudos: 289





	1. Wake Up Call

_ “Hey, Luka, it’s been a long time.”  _

_ “It has, Adrien. I hope you’ve been well.” _

_ “Well, I’m...I’m getting along. I can’t really say better than that. I mean, I’m sure you heard, it was a media circus. This whole thing is...not what I wanted, to say the least.” _

_ “Yeah. How’s the kid handling it?” _

_ “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t think he’s doing all that well but he just clams up and won’t talk to anyone. And last time he was here, he didn’t want to touch the piano at all. His mother said it’s the same at her place. His current instructor is a good teacher but he doesn’t have the patience to deal with Louis right now. I know you’re busy but I was hoping you could fit Louis in your schedule. If there’s anyone who can draw his passion for music back out, it’s you.” _

_ “Mmm. I want to help, Adrien, but I do have a full roster of students right now, I’m just not sure if—“ _

_ “Pick two of your lower income students. I’ll sponsor them for as long as Louis is taking lessons with you.” _

_ “Man, you know I hate it when you throw money at problems like it’s the cure for all ills.” _

_ “I do, but I’m desperate and I know it’ll work this time.”  _

_ “Ugh...I do have some talented students that could really use that support. All right, I’ll find a way to fit him in. Although honestly, Adrien, I probably would have done it anyway.” _

_ “Thanks, Luka. Let me know when and where, and we’ll make time in his schedule to get him there.” _

* * *

Luka looked over his newest student and concluded that he must take after his mother, since he didn’t look much like Adrien at all. His hair was dark and his eyes, while still green, had more blue in them than Adrien’s did. He had a little more of Adrien in the chin and the nose, but his build was lean and slender. He was a smart kid, too, looking Luka over with the same scrutiny, taking in Luka’s blue-tipped hair, the black turtleneck and black jeans, eyes lingering on the tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. 

Luka crouched down to Louis’ height and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, Louis.”

“M. Couffaine,” the boy greeted seriously, shaking his hand with all the formality and gravity of a tiny businessman. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

Luka kept his distaste behind his professional mask. He’d never approved of teaching children to tell polite lies. But for all that Adrien had tried to let go of his father’s strict teachings, Louis Agreste was nothing less than rigidly formal and polite. 

“You can call me Luka,” he told the boy, who glanced back at his father. Adrien gave him a slight nod and Louis turned back. “I know some teachers prefer a more formal relationship,” Luka continued as if he hadn’t seen this. “But I like to think music is too personal for formality. I want you to be comfortable, though, so if you prefer M. Couffaine, we can go with that.” 

Louis blinked, momentarily startled out of his formal composure. “Umm...I’m fine with Luka. Thanks.” A hand rose to rub at the back of his neck in a gesture Luka immediately recognized. Clearly the kid hadn’t expected to have a choice in the matter.

Luka smiled. “Okay. Let me talk to your dad for a second, and then we’ll get started, okay? You can stay here and listen if you want, or you can follow that hall to the studio, that’s where the piano is.” 

Louis looked past Luka curiously. “Can I look at some of your other instruments?”

“Sure,” Luka straightened up. “Look all you want, just please don’t touch anything you don’t already know how to play, okay?” 

Louis nodded and went off to look at the row of guitars along the wall.

“So,” Luka said, turning to stand next to Adrien and folding his arms as he watched Louis explore. “Tell me why you brought him to me.”

“I was thinking about it even before the divorce,” Adrien told him. “You know I was good as a concert pianist but I was never a composer. Louis, though, he’s got his mother’s creativity. I know I’m biased as his father, but I think he could be a really good songwriter someday. But now…” Adrien sighed. “I’m really worried about him,” he continued in a low voice. “I mean, he’s been seeing a therapist since we told him about the divorce, but...I don’t know.” Adrien sighed again, scrubbing his hand over his face. “He just doesn’t seem to be bouncing back the way he should. He’s so serious and sad all the time, and he seems like he’s lost his passion for music. He wanted to quit and Marinette wanted to let him. We kind of fought about it, actually. This is a compromise. If he still wants to quit after he’s worked with you for a while, I’ll let him, but I’m hoping you can help him. The way you connect with music, it’s unique. Frankly, if you can’t help him then maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”

Luka made a thoughtful noise. “I can try. I can’t guarantee it. Some people just lose the spark. Or it may be too painful for him to play right now, but he’ll pick it up again in a few years.”

“We used to play together all the time.” Adrien’s voice cracked. “He never wants to play with me anymore.” 

Luka put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “He’s not rejecting you, Adrien. I’m sure of that. Just give him a little time. I’ll work with him and we’ll see what happens. In the meantime, you work on finding other ways to connect with him. Don’t pressure him about the music at all for now, okay? Let him know you’re willing to play with him whenever he wants to and then drop it.” Luka frowned. “And if he does ask to play with you, you better be ready to drop whatever you’re doing and play. No excuses, Adrien.”

“I wouldn’t,” Adrien protested. 

Luka folded his arms again. “All right, now I’m going to piss you off, so brace yourself.”

“Great,” Adrien muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Tell me what’s going on with you and his mother.”

Sure enough, Adrien scowled. “Why do you need to know that?”

“Do you want me to teach him, or not?” Luka asked calmly. “You brought him to me for a reason, Adrien. I’m not trying to pry for the gritty details, but I need to know what’s going on in his head. Are you still friendly or...”

“We’re...strained. We’re both in therapy but—” Adrien shook his head. “She left me, Luka. I’m having a really hard time forgiving her for that. And—” Luka glanced at him as he seemed to struggle to get the words out. “I think she’s having a hard time forgiving herself for it too,” Adrien finally finished, grudgingly. “She’s working a lot. She’s been my head designer at Gabriel since my father passed. She doesn’t need me, she’s more than talented enough to split off and form her own brand. But she hasn’t done it. It’s been...less than a clean break. We’re managing to work together civilly because we have to, none of the other designers have the vision to keep  _ Gabriel _ relevant, but it’s still pretty tense.”

“How’s she with Louis?”

“She’s a fantastic mom, everything I wish I could have had as a kid. She pays attention to him, she always puts his needs first. She indulges him without spoiling him, she pushes him without pressuring him, she encourages him to do better without making him feel like he’s not good enough.” Adrien sighed, and swallowed. 

“I loved her so much,” he said thickly. “I built my whole life around her. I’ve accepted that she’s gone and she’s not coming back, but...I don’t know. Deep down I love her and I want her to be happy, but I can’t seem to stop being angry at her and she just takes whatever cruel thing comes out of my mouth because she thinks she deserves it. I don’t know how we got so twisted up.” 

Luka turned and pulled Adrien into a hug. “It’s okay to be upset, man,” he told his old friend. “It’s okay.” They stayed that way for a moment, until Adrien pulled away.

“I’m sorry I let us go so long without contact, and now here I’m only calling because I need your help. I’m a terrible friend,” Adrien sighed. “And I should have called you after—” Luka flinched, and Adrien broke off. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“That’s life, Adrien,” Luka shrugged, staring at the floor. “I haven’t exactly been breaking down your door either, so don’t sweat it. You and I just run in different circles right now, and that’s okay. Doesn’t mean we’re not friends. Now you go do your thing, and Louis and I will go do ours, and we’ll see where all this goes.”

Adrien and Louis said a quick goodbye, and Louis reluctantly followed Luka to the studio. Luka sat next to him at the piano, leaving plenty of space between them. “Okay, Louis, we’re just going to see how much you know, okay? No pressure, this isn’t a pass-fail kinda thing. It’s just to help me see where to start with you.” He set Louis some basic exercises, unsurprised when the boy flew through them with an expression that was a mix of melancholy and boredom. Luka worked him up through the exercises until he thought he had a good idea of Louis’ ability, and then set the music books aside.

“Okay,” Luka said, “Now play me something that makes you happy. Anything you want.”

Louis gave him a startled look. Luka just looked back expectantly. Louis’ hands crept to the instrument, and then fell away again. Luka just waited.

“It doesn’t make me happy anymore,” Louis whispered. “It just makes me miss my dad.” 

Luka put his hand on Louis shoulder. “That’s okay. And it’s brave of you to admit that. But your dad isn’t gone, Louis. I know that he loves you and he’ll play with you any time you ask. That’s not something you have to give up.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I know,” Luka said sympathetically, genuinely feeling for the boy. “Nothing stays the same forever. Sometimes change comes when we’re not expecting it and it’s hard. Especially when you feel like you don’t have any control over what’s happening and you just wish everything could go back to the way it was, but you know it can’t. So,” he finished, dropping his hand, “Try playing something that expresses how you’re feeling. It doesn’t have to be a song, you can just play a few notes or whatever. Whatever comes to mind.”

Louis frowned at the keys for a moment, and then lifted his hands over them. He tried a few notes, and then shook his head, and played the same sequence in a lower register. Luka nodded slowly as the boy played, taking notes in a book he kept to one side.

“Good,” Luka said, when Louis started to fumble and scrunch his face in frustration. “Let’s stop there for now. Let me show you what I heard while you played.” Luka placed his hands over the keys, and played the theme he’d heard repeated in Louis’ experiments.

“Does that feel right?” Luka asked, playing it again. 

“Yeah,” Louis said slowly. “I mean, yes, it does.” The tension in his body eased slightly. 

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Luka said. “It helps, to get it out, so you can feel more like this.” He shifted to a slightly different melody, lighter, more hopeful. “You see? The sadness is still there, but it’s not the whole piece anymore. Then you build from there…” He changed the piece again, crescendoing, adding flares of joy, and emphasizing the hope. “So that even if the sadness never goes away, it doesn’t lock up your heart. You’re more open to the good things that come along—or maybe the good things that were always there. It won’t be the same as it was before—“ he played a light, happy, uncomplicated melody.

“But nothing stays the same forever,” Louis grudgingly repeated.

“Exactly.” Luka took his hands from the keys. “I want you to keep working on your exercises at home, okay?” He stood from the piano and went over to a cabinet on the wall, digging through it for a moment and coming up with three CDs. He brought them back and handed them to the boy. “Listen to these, and when you come back, we’ll talk about which pieces speak to you. We’ll use that to plan our lessons. And any time you want to, we can do what we did today, and maybe help you work through some of those hard feelings. Okay?” He held out his hand for Louis to shake, and the young boy took it. Louis moved slowly, but his grip was firm, and Luka was satisfied. “And if you won’t resent some personal advice,” Luka added, “Don’t stop playing with your dad. It might feel sad now, but it’s okay for you to be sad together. Someday you’ll be able to play happy again, and you’ll want him to be there.”

Louis made a noncommittal noise. 

Luka crouched again to meet his eyes. “Listen. I know I don’t need to lecture you about practice, and I can see that playing hurts you right now. I’m going to talk to your dad, and make sure that he and your mom know that you’re allowed to decide on your own practice time, okay? For now, just do what you feel you can do. If you sit down one day to practice and it just hurts too much, it’s okay to get up and walk away. Try again later if you can, but if you can’t, that’s okay too. Music has to come from your heart, and if your heart is hurting too much to make music, then it doesn’t matter how much you practice, you’ll just be making noise, not music. I trust you to be responsible and not blow off practice just for the hell of it, okay? You sit down at that bench every day and you do what you think you can manage. If you can’t make yourself do the exercises, just play like you did today, whatever comes into your mind. In the meantime I’ll write up that little tune you wrote and you can have a copy of it to take home next week.” He paused, and then said, “Let me ask you something, Louis. Do you  _ want _ to love music again? Is this something that you’re willing to put in the work for?” 

Tears sprang to the boy’s blue-green eyes. He didn’t seem able to answer, but Luka nodded anyway. “Okay. Then we’ll get there. A little bit at a time. There’s no deadline on this, Louis. Nobody gets to tell you how long it takes to feel better. You’ll get there when you’re ready, as long as you want to. And my job is to help you and support you while you get there.”

“Like a physical therapist after an accident?” Louis asked, and Luka’s eyebrows raised slightly at the astute comparison.

“Exactly,” Luka smiled. “All right, your dad should be here any minute. While we wait, you want me to show you one of those guitars you were looking at earlier?” Louis’ eyes brightened, and Luka grinned. “All right then.” 

* * *

He’d been working with Louis for about a month when he met her. Normally, Adrien brought Louis to practice and picked him up personally, but for some business reason or other that Luka hadn’t really bothered to listen to, Louis’ mother was going to pick him up from practice.

They weren’t quite finished when Luka’s doorbell rang. He left Louis in the studio and went to answer it.

Luka opened the door and felt the breath leave his body like he’d been punched in the gut. The dark-haired, blue-eyed woman standing there in a crisp, well-fitted business suit smiled and his pulse pounded in his ears so loudly that he missed her greeting. 

Shit, he needed to get it together. He took a deep breath and focused on what she was saying. 

“I’m, um, I’m here to pick up my son?”

“You’re Louis’ mom?” he said stupidly. 

She raised her eyebrows slightly and God, her eyes were so  _ blue _ . “Yes, I’m Marinette Agreste.” She put out her hand.

“Right,” Luka rasped, and then cleared his throat as he shook her hand. “I’m Luka Couffaine, Louis’ teacher. Obviously.” He tore his eyes from hers in an effort to reboot his brain and in the process, looked down at their joined hands. A flash of color caught his eye. She had a small, brightly-colored ladybug tattooed on the heel of her hand, just below her thumb. He managed to pull himself together enough to let go of her hand and say, “Please, come in, we’re almost done. Um, I’m sorry to ask you this, but since we’ve never met can I check your ID please?”

She actually looked pleased rather than offended as she complied. The ladybug flashed at him again as she handed him the card.  _ Cute. _

“Great, thanks.” He handed her ID back to her with an apologetic smile. “Can’t be too careful. Studio’s back here, just follow me.”

As they approached the studio door, Luka slowed, listening. He held a hand up to stop Marinette, turning towards her for a moment to put a finger to his lips. Very quietly he opened the studio door.

Louis didn’t notice, absorbed in his playing. Luka felt a satisfied smile spread across his lips. The boy was finally playing with his whole heart. 

He heard Marinette’s breath hitch at his side, and he glanced down at her. She had one hand over her mouth but he could see the way the smile beneath crinkled the corners of her eyes—eyes that shimmered as he watched. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, then slipped into the room, sliding next to Louis on the piano bench. He didn’t say anything and Louis only glanced at him and continued to play. For a moment, he listened and Louis played, and then Louis’ hands fumbled to a stop. 

“That’s as far as I can go,” Louis said quietly. “I don’t know the rest yet.”

Luka held up his fist. “That was awesome. Pound it, little man.” Louis grinned, and met Luka’s fist with his own. Then to Luka’s surprise, Louis threw his arms around Luka’s waist and hugged him, something like a sob escaping him. “Hey, it’s okay,” Luka rubbed the boy’s back. “It feels good, right? To get it out. That’s what the music is for. Now you go home and cry if you need to, but remember what that felt like just now. That’s what you want, okay? That’s what makes it music and not just noise. It’s not about perfection, it’s about emotion and connection.” Louis nodded, face still hidden in Luka’s shirt. “I’m proud of you, kid. I know that was hard. And I think someone else is proud of you too.” 

Louis lifted his head and Luka nodded toward Marinette, still standing frozen outside the door. Louis straightened, scrubbing at his face. “Maman, I—“

Marinette just held her arms out, a beaming smile on her face that made Luka’s heart seize up. Shit, what the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t even know this woman.

Louis went running into her arms. Marinette squeezed him tight, with no regard for the way he was surely wrinkling her suit. Luka couldn’t clearly hear whatever she whispered, but he could hear the love and pride in her voice. He smiled to himself. Louis might be having a rough time coming to terms with the divorce, but with both parents loving him as hard as they did, Luka wasn’t worried for him in the long term. He’d be just fine.

Then Marinette straightened and turned that blinding smile on him and he actually  _ felt _ his IQ drop sharply. 

“ _ Thank _ you, M. Couffaine,” she said feelingly, and it took him half a breath longer than it should have to recognize his own name.

“Call me Luka, please.”

Pink touched her cheeks. “Luka. Thank you. I’m happy to see Louis finding his passion for music again. Adrien was right to say we should bring him to you before we gave up.”

Luka shrugged slightly and smiled. “It’s my job. And my pleasure. Louis is easy to teach. He knows his basics so well, we get to spend most of our time on the fun stuff.” He winked at the boy, who gave him a small smile back. 

“Still. I was skeptical when Adrien wanted Louis to continue, and I can see now that he was right,” Marinette said, laying her hands lightly on Louis’ shoulders. “So thank you. I know I don’t need to tell you how much music means to him and his father, but—well. Thank you.”

“Mom,” Louis whispered, “You’re being weird.”

The pink in her cheeks darkened and Luka pressed his lips together to hide his amusement. “We should go,” Marinette said, nudging Louis. “It was nice meeting you, M—Luka.”

“It’s been my pleasure, ma’am,” he said, walking them to the door. 

“Marinette is fine,” she said brightly, and if she’d been pretty before when she was composed and professional, she was stunning now that she was effervescing with happiness. Luka opened the door for them automatically, his brain temporarily offline. “Until next time!” she chirped as they left, and Luka watched them until they were back in their car and pulling away from the curb. He stepped back inside and closed the door carefully. He leaned his forehead on it and tried to calm his racing heart.

What the hell was that? He hadn’t been so instantly attracted to  _ anybody _ in...a long time. A very long time. 

Luka turned his back to the door and frowned. Surely, he’d met Adrien’s wife before. He’d been at the wedding, for crying out loud. Although, he hadn’t stayed long. Even the best weddings were awkward, and this one hadn’t been the best, huge and pretentious and full of stuffy people he’d had no interest in. He did vaguely remember meeting the bride and shaking hands with Adrien, but was only a few seconds. He remembered thinking she was beautiful but wasn’t every woman on their wedding day? He probably had barely looked her in the eye, now that he thought of it, eager to pay his respects and be gone, too lost in his own concerns to really be at ease in the stilted atmosphere, especially with Gabriel Agreste watching Adrien’s every move.

He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t matter. She was a client. He wouldn’t see her very often. He could keep a lid on this. They’d see each other only professionally and not very often, so it would be fine.

He would be fine.

* * *

_ “Luka, hey. I just wanted to check in on things since I wasn’t able to be there this week. It seemed like things are going well?” _

_ “Yeah, I think Louis had a bit of a breakthrough this week. He’s letting his feelings back into his music.” _

_ “I heard. You made an impression on Marinette. She was practically gushing when she dropped Louis off.” _

_ “Oh. That was just...lucky timing, I guess. It wasn’t really me, it was Louis.” _

_ “Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. That’s the first time she’s admitted I was right about something in years.” _


	2. Daydreams

Marinette started coming to the music lessons every so often, dropping Louis off and picking him up. Luka gathered from Louis that it was unusual that she hadn’t come before, that normally Adrien and Marinette took turns getting Louis around to his activities. At least they didn’t just send him with the driver like Gabriel used to do. Luka wondered if Marinette hadn’t come before because she disagreed with Adrien about making Louis continue his lessons, but it was really none of his business, so he didn’t ask.

His reaction to her was just as strong as it was the first time, though he at least managed to retain control of his senses for the most part. It helped that their conversations were short and entirely professional, and after years of teaching, Luka could issue a verbal student progress report in his sleep. 

Luka did his best not to think about her outside of those interactions, and he was doing pretty well...for a while.

* * *

Luka sighed as he read Juleka’s message, and looked around for something to kill time. If he remembered where he was correctly, there was an outdoor flea market a couple streets over where he’d found some good vintage vinyls now and then. Might as well check it out, since Juleka was going to be late. 

Luka straightened the leather vest he wore over his t-shirt absently, glad he had opted against his jacket under this bright sun, checked to make sure he still had his wallet in his pocket, and set off. The market was a street or two farther down than he was thinking, but still only a few minutes walk. 

How he spotted her in a crowd like that, he’d never know, but there was Marinette, leaning over a table, turning over some brightly colored pieces of fabric—placemats maybe, he couldn’t really tell. She was dressed far more casually than he’d ever seen her, though she still looked nicely put together in jeans and a light sweater with a wide collar. Her dark hair was piled up in a messy bun so that there was one long unobstructed line from her neck to the curve of her shoulder—

Luka looked away quickly, feeling like a stupid teenager with a crush, butterflies in his stomach and all. It was stupid,  _ he _ was stupid, he was a grown man and she was a client and he could say hi without being a total idiot about it. 

But then again, no, it would be weird, he decided. It would be one thing if she saw him, then obviously he would wave, but to go up and get her attention, no, they weren’t that closely acquainted. He aimed for a table piled with musical paraphernalia a few down from where she was and tried to stay casual and not look back at her again. 

Luka was thumbing through some old records looking for something interesting when suddenly there was a yelp and something crashed into him from the side. Luka lurched, just managing to keep his feet, but whoever had knocked into him was headed for a close encounter with the pavement. Luka reacted without thinking, managing to get one arm under the person—woman—and grab onto a wrist with the other hand. Off balance as he was, he couldn’t stop her fall entirely, but he managed to lower her to the pavement in a somewhat controlled way. His eyes widened when he realized who he had just rescued. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said with a slow grin, as Marinette blinked up at him. “You okay?”

“M. Couffaine!” she gasped. “I mean—Luka—I mean, yes, I’m okay, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened—”

Luka changed his grip from her wrist to her hand and tried to pull her to her feet, but she stumbled again immediately. “My shoes,” she said, leaning heavily on his arms. “Something’s wrong.” 

“Here, sit down,” Luka said, lowering her to the pavement a second time. “Ah.” He crouched at her feet, hooking two fingers through the shoelaces of her sneakers, which were tied to each other. “Looks like there’s a prankster on the loose.” 

“Oh!” Marinette made an irritated noise, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. “I bet I know exactly who it was. I just stopped some kids from throwing rocks at the birds a minute ago.” 

“You’re probably right,” Luka said, pulling off his sunglasses and getting down on one knee to tug at the knotted laces. “Just sit tight, I’m pretty good with knots.” He glanced up to find her looking at him with raised eyebrows. “Not, um, recreationally,” he grinned, with a wink that made her blush. “I grew up on a boat, so knots were kind of a part of life.” He avoided looking her in the eye, trying to focus on her shoelaces.

Not that looking at her legs was much better. Those jeans fit her really nicely. He bit his lip and hoped he wasn’t blushing visibly. 

“My bag,” Marinette muttered suddenly, twisting where she sat to look around. “Oh!” There was a large bag with the  _ Gabriel _ logo on it on the ground nearby, its contents spread over the sidewalk. Fortunately most people were just walking around the mess rather than right over it, though her belongings were clearly in danger of being kicked all over the street. 

“I’ll get it, just sit tight for a minute,” Luka said, leaving her laces for the moment in favor of retrieving her things before they were trampled or stolen. 

“Wait, my sketchbook,” Marinette said, pointing to where it had fallen in the street. “I really need that. Everything else is replaceable.” She looked like she was about to crawl for it, but Luka waved a hand for her to wait and went to get it first. Watching the traffic carefully (Juleka would kill him if he ended up in the hospital over something like this), he stepped into the street, bent down, and got her book. He turned and held it up as he stepped back onto the curb; to his surprise, Marinette was blushing vividly. “Oh, um, thank you,” she stammered as he handed her the book, averting her eyes from him.

Slightly confused, Luka replayed the last few minutes in his mind.  _ Wait, was she checking me out?  _ Luka bit back a grin. “I’ll get the rest, just hang tight.” She made a strangled noise as he turned away, and it was all he could do to keep his laughter to himself as he picked up the rest of her things. He glanced back once, but Marinette was staring at the ground beneath her feet, her hands up on either side of her face like blinders. Luka laughed quietly as he picked up the rest of her things. She was too cute, and honestly it felt kind of good to be checked out by a woman like her. At least he felt less guilty for ogling her legs.

“I think I got everything,” he said as he set the bag down next to her. “You can check while I get you untied. Although—hang on, let’s get you out of the middle of the sidewalk.” There wasn’t much of a crowd at the moment but they were about due for the lunch rush to flood the sidewalks, and Parisians on a mission weren’t known for their patience. There was a bench only a few feet away. He crouched down beside her. “May I?”

Color flooded her face. “Oh, you don’t—I mean I can make it that far, you don’t have to—” 

“If that’s what you prefer,” Luka shrugged, offering his hands. She let him pull her to her feet and steady her, and then made a little hop towards the bench, and promptly toppled, almost losing her grip on her bag again. Luka, prepared this time, caught her around the waist, and raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh and mostly failing.

Marinette sighed and pouted. “Fine. Please. I’m so sorry about all this.” 

“It’s fine,” Luka said, slipping one arm down under her knees. “Here we go.” 

A bridal carry was always a lot harder than they made it look on TV, but Marinette was small, so it didn’t take much to get her to the bench. He set her down and then sat down himself by her feet, guiding them up into his lap. 

“Thank you so much,” she said, sounding miserable. “Honestly, I’m so sorry about all this.” The little ladybug winked at him as she pressed her hand to her forehead in obvious frustration. 

“It’s all good,” Luka said, flashing her an easy smile. “I’m glad I was here.” He picked at her laces, silently resigning himself to redoing his nail polish that night. Marinette’s various falls had tightened the knot and there was no way his nails would survive. “I’m just killing time, anyway. I’m supposed to be meeting my sister for lunch, but she’s running late.” He glanced up and caught Marinette eyeing up his arms, but tried not to let on that he’d noticed, though a smile tugged at his lips. “How about you? Doing some shopping?”

“Some shopping, some sketching,” she sighed, leaning back on her hands. “Looking for inspiration, I guess.”

“This can be a good place to find it,” Luka said, glancing around at the market with all of its varied people and textures and sounds. “I’ve found it here a couple times myself. Been a while since I was here, though, honestly. I’m a little surprised to see you here in the middle of the day.” 

“Well, the truth is...” Marinette leaned forward, propped her cheek on one fist, and gave him a pout that drew his eyes straight to her sinfully perfect lips. “My assistant basically kicked me out of the office today. Apparently I was terrorizing the interns and she thought I could use a break. I’m not allowed to go back until at least 3:00.” She sighed. “I have a ton of stuff to do at the office, but I make it a point never to argue with the person responsible for my morning coffee, so here I am.” 

Luka had to clear his throat. “Sound policy.” He made the mistake of looking at her again and this time he caught the full impact of her beautiful eyes like a kick in the gut. His eyes tried to find somewhere else to look and landed on her bare neck, and the wide collar of her light sweater just hanging onto the tips of her shoulders—he quickly looked back down at what he was doing, mouth suddenly dry. He finally managed to pull free one loop of the knot. “There we go,” he muttered, just for something to say. “That should loosen it up a bit, and...there, you’re free.” He grinned at her, and retied her laces correctly. 

“Thank you so much!” Marinette turned and let her feet drop to the ground, and once again he couldn’t stop staring at the line of her neck and the curve of her shoulder. He needed to look away, right now, but before he could manage it she smiled up at him. “I’m so sorry for crashing into you like that.”

The first six responses he could think of were highly inappropriate and he was beginning to wonder if the collision had knocked a screw loose. “Better me than the pavement,” he finally managed, with a mostly natural smile. “Are you hurt?” 

“I don’t think so,” she said, checking her hands and arms, and dusting off the thigh of her jeans where she’d landed on the pavement. “No damage.”

“Good.” His phone buzzed and he checked it and sighed, falling back against the bench in frustration. 

“Everything okay?” Marinette asked, frowning. 

Luka sighed again but gave her a reassuring smile as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah, it just looks my lunch date’s been cancelled, my sister can’t make it.” 

“Do you want to do it with me?” Marinette asked, and as Luka looked at her, startled, she went pale, and then red almost at once. “Oh my—I meant lunch! Do you want to grab lunch? Since you’re free and I’m thirsty—hungry! I mean it is hot and I need a drink and—shit, clearly I need  _ something _ because my brain is totally malfunctioning.” She buried her face in her hands and gave a little moan. 

Her brain wasn’t the only one malfunctioning. Luka swallowed hard, trying to parse everything he’d just heard with the part of his mind that didn’t live in the gutter, but unfortunately it seemed most of it was at least visiting at the moment. Before he could make much progress, Marinette took a deep breath, took her hands off her face, and looked at him squarely. “Sorry, let me try that again. Can I buy you lunch as thanks for helping me out?” she asked, her face still red but appearing otherwise calm. 

“Ah, sure,” Luka answered before he could really think it through. “Sure, why not? Although you don’t really need to thank me, what was I going to do, leave you lying on the sidewalk to get trampled?” 

Marinette smiled. “Still. I nearly knocked you down, you had to pick up my stuff out of the street, and carry me around,  _ and  _ you fixed my laces. The least I can do is buy you a sandwich or something. Besides, now that you’ve mentioned food I’m kind of starving. Were you planning on somewhere close by?”

“Jules and I were just going to a little place a couple of blocks over. It’s—it’s not much, barely more than a food stand honestly, so if you’d rather do something else—”

“No, no, that sounds good!” Marinette actually looked excited about it, which Luka couldn’t really understand. She’d probably eaten at the best places in the city. Even divorced she probably had more money to her name than Luka had ever touched in his entire life. Hadn’t Adrien said she was Gabriel’s head designer? The phrase  _ out of his league _ suddenly leapt to mind. Except, wait, he wasn’t trying to date her, he reminded himself. She was a client. 

Well, technically,  _ Adrien _ was the client, but...no. Just, no.

As they walked Luka cursed his natural urge to touch; he kept finding his fingers on her upper arm or her shoulder and snatching them back as he guided her to the little food shop that he and Juleka liked. It really was just a little hole in the wall sandwich place, it didn’t even have any real seating, so he and Marinette ended up finding another bench to sit on as they ate. 

“Wow, this is really good,” Marinette exclaimed, catching a bit of sauce on her thumb and licking it off. Luka glanced at her just in time to catch the flick of her tongue and the flash of the ladybug, and he bit down on his sandwich a little harder than necessary. “Thanks for telling me about this place.” She wrinkled her nose and leaned towards him a bit, as if she were telling him a secret. “Gabriel would’ve shit a brick if he knew I was eating at a place like this, in public no less. Makes everything taste better.”

“Don’t mention it,” Luka laughed in incredulous surprise. “Any day I can make Gabriel Agreste roll in his grave is a good day.” 

“Ugh, that man,” Marinette shook her head, taking another bite. “If only he’d died sooner.” She flushed and covered her mouth with her fingers. “I mean…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get no argument from me,” Luka chuckled. “I couldn’t stand him, and the feeling was very much mutual.” 

Marinette cocked her head at him. “How did you get to know Adrien? We were together for so long, I’m surprised I never met you before.”

“Music events,” Luka shrugged. “I didn’t see him regularly, really, just every few months. He was always really nervous and I hated sitting still in those damn awful suits they made me wear for recitals, so we’d run into each other pacing the halls and get to talking.” He shook his head. “Listening to Adrien perform back then was  _ painful _ , it was like listening to a robot. Soulless, you know? I kept thinking what a waste, to spend all that time practicing and in the end all you got was  _ that _ . We talked a lot wandering those halls, at first just about music, and then about a lot of other things, including his dad. After that, I started to understand why his music sounded the way it did.”

Marinette gave him a knowing look. “And you tried to help, didn’t you?”

“I—yeah, I did,” Luka chuckled. “I tried to help him feel the music. Eventually I invited him to be part of a band I was in at the time, tried to show him what music could really be like, you know, but he only got to come for a couple practices before the old man brought the hammer down. We kept in touch off and on, but we had to keep it quiet.” Luka rolled his eyes. “I’m a terrible influence, you see.” He gave a general gesture that included his dyed hair, pierced ears, tattooed arms, and general punk aesthetic.

Marinette made a sympathetic noise, her index finger bending down to rub the ladybug tattoo absently. 

Luka sighed. “Heaven forbid anybody teach his perfect little robot how to actually feel something while he played. Adrien did learn it somewhere along the line, but I’m not sure it was from me.” Luka’s forehead creased as he ran the memories through his mind. “I think he got together with you pretty shortly after Gabriel pulled him out of the band, now that I think about it. We didn’t see each other much over the next few months, Gabriel was paying too much attention. Eventually I think he just forgot about me since Adrien was back on the straight and narrow.”

“That sounds like Gabriel,” Marinette sighed, and then shook her head as if clearing it. “By the way, is your sister okay? I mean, I don’t mean to pry, it’s just, you said she cancelled on you, but I didn’t think to ask if anything was wrong.”

“Oh, she’s...fine,” Luka said, a little reluctantly, and then sighed heavily. “She and her wife had a baby very recently, and it’s been kind of tough on them both. I guess she just didn’t feel like she could leave them this morning.” Luka tapped a foot restlessly. “To be honest, it’s been rough for the whole family for a while now. My mother— _ our _ mother, she...passed away, about a year and a half ago, and I took it pretty hard, so Juleka’s had a lot on her shoulders between dealing with me and her pregnant wife, not to mention how the loss affected  _ her _ . I really wanted to start making it up to her and at least get her out of the house for a little bit, but I guess today’s just not the day.” 

“That’s such a difficult time,” Marinette said sympathetically, crumpling up her empty sandwich wrapper and making a fairly impressive shot into a nearby trash bin. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother.” Luka glanced at her, and then away. He hated those words most of the time, but at least Marinette sounded sincere. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you to lose her, but I do know that a baby is a big change for everyone, even if you think you’re prepared and you have all the support in the world. Oh!” She held up a finger, and started digging in her bag. “Actually I have something that might help a little bit.” She pulled out a couple of envelopes out of her bag and offered it to him. Luka put aside his own trash and wiped his hands quickly on a napkin before taking them. “I used to get these all the time,” she said, as Luka’s eyes widened slightly reading them over. “Less these days, but still more than I want to mess with. There’s always some spa or other offering something to me, because of my position at  _ Gabriel _ and as the former Mrs. Agreste.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I like a spa day as much as the next girl, but I don’t know, it just feels gross being offered stuff like this so they can brag about how they kept me young and fresh for the runway shows. Your sisters are welcome to use them. I know a good sitter if you need one.” 

“This—Marinette this is a really nice place, are you—are you sure?” The cards in his hands were probably worth two hundred euros each, easy. “Surely there’s someone else you would rather give them to?”

Marinette smiled and leaned over, covering his hands with her own. “Nobody that needs a day off as much as your sisters. And it’s not like I earned them, you know? It’s all for  _ Gabriel _ and Adrien, not for me. I’d much rather your sisters get a break.” She sighed and got to her feet. “I have to get going, I have some meetings this afternoon that I can’t miss, but thanks for having lunch with me! I feel much less ready to murder interns now.” She hunched her shoulders slightly. “I probably should pick up something yummy for them as an apology for being so snappy this morning.” 

“Right,” Luka said absently, still rather stunned. “Marinette, are you really sure, I mean, thank you, very much, I just...um…” Marinette giggled when he just continued to stare. “Careful, you’ll catch flies.” She winked at him as he shut his mouth quickly, and it felt like her ladybug was laughing at him as she waved goodbye.

She got a few steps away and then turned around again, and he could have sworn she was blushing. “I’ll see you Tuesday? It’s my turn to bring Louis.”

“Yeah,” Luka said numbly, a little too late. “See you then.”

Marinette just gave him one more bright smile before taking a step backwards and catching her heel on an uneven place in the sidewalk. Luka winced but she managed to catch herself, and he caught a glimpse of her red face before she turned and power-walked away.  _ She’s funny _ , he thought to himself with a smile, carefully putting away the spa certificates in an inside pocket of his vest.  _ And generous. Kind and thoughtful. Hot, hell yes, but still cute. No wonder Adrien married her so young. If I’d met a girl like that back then, I wouldn’t have let her go either.  _

* * *

By Tuesday afternoon, Luka was reasonably sure he had his shit together and his head mostly on straight, right up until Marinette and Louis showed up at his door and it turned out he couldn’t even look at Marinette right away. “Hi, Louis,” Luka exchanged a fistbump with the boy. “Ready to work?”

“Yes, sir,” Louis chirped, and then Luka’s eyes shifted up. She was back in her designer business suit with her hair carefully done, perfectly elegant and poised and untouchable. The consummate business woman.

“Marinette,” he greeted, as evenly as he could. “Nice to see you. No worse for wear?”

“Hi,” she smiled, and damn if he wasn’t getting just a little bit obsessed with that ladybug tattoo as she gave him an odd little wave and smoothed her hair self-consciously. “No, I was fine. Not even a bruise! You? I mean, of course you’re probably fine, but I did almost knock you down—”

“Mom, you’re being weird,” Louis whispered, and Luka had to look away to hide his smile. She might look like a business woman, but she still acted like the fluttered woman from the market.

“Hush, you,” Marinette muttered, face pink. She looked up at Luka and turned a little pinker. “Um, do you know of a coffee shop or something nearby where I can work? I have some things I really need to get done and I don’t want to waste more time in the car than I have to, so I thought I could just find somewhere close. If you know of anything.”

“I do,” Luka answered with a slow smile, “But you’re welcome to work here.” He gestured towards his living room. “Or at the table in the kitchen, if you prefer.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude on your private space,” Marinette said, holding up her hands, and there was the ladybug again. “A coffee shop is fine.”

Luka shrugged, eyebrows raising slightly. “It’s not intruding if you’re invited, but by all means, do whatever you’re comfortable with. There’s a shop around the corner. Honestly their coffee isn’t very good, at least not to my taste, but it’s a comfortable place to work. Or—” he swept his arm again toward his living room. “Make yourself at home. Take your pick. Come on, Louis, let’s get started.” He led the boy down the hall to the studio.

With the music as a distraction, he quickly forgot about Marinette until the lesson was over, and when he walked out of the studio with Louis, he had to choke back a laugh. 

Marinette was sitting on his couch with her laptop across her knees and a bluetooth headset blinking in her ear, but her head had fallen back and she was snoring lightly. Her hands rested slack against her keyboard, twitching slightly. Luka covered his smile with his hand and Louis giggled. 

“She’s been working too hard again,” Louis whispered. He looked up at Luka hopefully. “Can we let her sleep?”

Luka sighed. “I wish we could, but I don’t know her schedule or what kinds of things she needed to do today, so it’s probably best if you go ahead and wake her up.” He patted Louis’ shoulder. “Sorry.”

Louis heaved a kid-sigh and trudged over to his mother. He tugged at her arm. “Maman.” Marinette whined, and Luka bit his lip against his amusement. She was too cute. 

Louis tugged harder, shaking her lightly. “Maman, wake up.”

“Not yet, Louis, it’s too early. Come rest with Maman,” Marinette slurred, wrapping her arm around Louis and pulling him down against her. 

“Maman!” Louis shot a pleading look at Luka, who couldn’t help chuckling. Louis glared at him. “You were the one who said I had to wake her up. Quit laughing and  _ help me _ .”

“All right, all right,” Luka put up his hands, still chuckling, and went to Marinette’s other side. The ottoman made leaning over her awkward from that position so he sat next to her and took hold of her shoulder, shaking gently. “Marinette. Wake up, honey.” He winced slightly. That probably wasn’t appropriate. She stirred, but didn’t quite wake. Luka shook her again. “Marinette.” 

She rolled her head towards him with a soft “Hmm?” and her eyes blinked open sleepily.  _ God, she’s cute. _

“You fell asleep,” he told her softly. She blinked those beautiful eyes a couple more times before the realization sank into her brain, and she shot up off the couch, and then promptly lost her balance as her shins hit the ottoman. Louis caught her laptop as it slid off her lap. Luka lunged and got an arm around her waist and a hand on her forearm. “Easy, easy,” he soothed, trying to steady her and hold his own balance at the same time. “You’re okay. You couldn’t have been asleep for long.” He guided her to sit back down. 

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. She looked at Louis and then back at Luka. “The lesson’s over?” 

“All done,” Luka nodded. 

“I’m so sorry to impose.” She checked the time. “Um, the driver should be here shortly.” 

Luka shrugged. “It’s no trouble. Louis is my last student for today and I don’t need to be anywhere.” He looked at Louis and tilted his head toward the row of guitars. “You want to pick another one?” Louis had been curious, so they usually spent a few minutes going over whichever guitar model he wanted to look at that week while they waited for the car. These were Luka’s personal instruments, and he didn’t normally let students touch them, but Louis was clean and careful, and Luka couldn’t refuse in the face of the boy’s enthusiasm.

Louis brightened and went over to the row of guitars, chewing his lip thoughtfully. Luka chuckled at his serious expression, and he heard Marinette giggle at the same time. The two adults shared an amused look. 

“Can you show me this one?” Louis pointed.

“Sure.” Luka picked up the classical guitar, checked that it was in tune, and set it in Louis’ hands. Luka showed Louis how to hold it, positioning his hands, and described how it differed both from the bass and the steel-string acoustic that he’d tried before. Without prompting, Louis positioned his fingers into the chord Luka had shown him the previous week, and strummed.

Luka grinned. “Not bad, piano man.”

Louis giggled, and offered it back to him. “I like this one,” Louis said, “Can you play something on it? Please,” he added hastily, glancing at his mother.

Luka took the guitar and sat down on the couch, positioning it in his lap. He played a simple tune, Louis’ eyes following his fingers curiously. Then a wicked idea came to him and he grinned, fingers already moving to his purpose as he darted a glance at Marinette. 

“Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,” he sang, and nearly lost his composure entirely at Marinette’s dropped jaw and outraged expression. “Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee…”

Louis caught on and giggled, and Marinette shot him a look of betrayal. 

“Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day, lulled by the moonlight, have all passed away—“ He only barely made it to the end of the verse without laughing, and then had to pause, one hand over his lips, to get his chuckling under control. 

“Rude,” huffed Marinette, which only made both Luka and Louis laugh harder. 

Luka kept playing, even as he tried to stifle his laughter. He meant to give her his best puppy eyes in request for forgiveness, “Beautiful dreamer—“ but their eyes locked and as he sang the line, the look became something else. “Queen of my song,” his voice had gone a little husky, but he was committed now. “List while I woo thee with soft melody.” He couldn’t make himself look away. “Gone are the cares of life’s busy throng. Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me.” His hands finished the song almost absently. When the last chord faded, Marinette blushed and looked away. 

Luka cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from her and looking back to Louis, unsurprised to find the boy watching him intently. Louis was a smart kid, empathetic and intuitive. Luka had known that from their first lesson. Dropping his eyes to the guitar, Luka played the first thing that came to mind. “My love is like a red red rose, that’s newly sprung in June, my love is like a melody that’s sweetly played in tune.” 

Louis wrinkled his nose. “Don’t you know any that aren’t mushy?”

Luka chuckled. “It’s a romantic instrument.” He nudged Louis with his elbow. “Like the piano.” He played a few more bars, and sighed. “My mother used to sing that one when I was a kid,” Luka said a little thickly, a sudden sense of loss sweeping over him. He cleared his throat, and felt a hand press his shoulder. He looked into soft blue eyes and his breath caught for a moment. 

“It’s lovely that you can remember her that way,” Marinette said quietly.

Luka cleared his throat again. “Yeah. She left a pretty strong legacy behind. This is the first time I’ve sung it since…I don’t know why I picked it now.”

Marinette sat down on the ottoman, her knees almost touching his. “Can you play a little more? Only if you want to.”

Luka complied, if only to keep from breaking down. “As fair art thou my bonnie lass,” he sang softly, but heavy with emotion, and then his years of performance betrayed him and he made the mistake of looking up into her face, “So deep in love am I—” His throat seized up for a moment as their eyes locked.  _ Oh, shit _ , he thought, heart racing. He tore his gaze away, swallowing. “And I will love thee still my dear,” he managed, “Till all the seas run dry.” Luka shook his head, putting the guitar aside quickly. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“That’s okay. It was beautiful.” Marinette reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I hope someday you’ll be able to play the whole thing again.”

Luka nodded, his gaze still on the carpet as he tried to get a grip on the conflicting emotions swirling around in his gut. 

“I like that one,” Louis said again, only a little stiffly. “The guitar, I mean.”

“Me too,” Luka wiped his eyes with his thumb and smiled, looking at him. “It’s my favorite after the electric. It’d suit you if you’d like to give it a try.”

Louis frowned. “I play piano.”

Luka chuckled. “So do I. You can play more than one. You’re allowed to love more than one instrument.”

Louis' eyes flicked between Luka and Marinette, and then he looked at the floor as he shook his head. “I play piano.”

Luka got the hint. “Okay.”

“The driver’s here,” Marinette burst out, looking at her phone, clearly relieved. “Time to go, Louis.” She held out her hand to Luka. “Thanks for letting me work in your home.”

“My pleasure,” he said, standing and taking her hand, squeezing it gently rather than shaking it. “Don’t work too hard. Louis worries about you.” He smiled. “And you can’t be your best creative self if you're exhausted.” She blushed adorably and dropped his hand like it burned her. 

“Yes, well, um...thank you. Bye.”

“Mom,” Louis whispered, taking her hand. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m  _ always _ weird,” she hissed back. 

Luka looked away to hide his smile, then put the guitar on the stand. He picked up Marinette’s briefcase and laptop bag and motioned her towards the entry. “Shall we?” 

“Right, yes,” Marinette said quickly, and Louis rolled his eyes and tugged her down the hall. Luka followed with Marinette’s things. He walked them all the way to the car. “Thank you,” Marinette said breathlessly as she took her bag. 

“My pleasure,” Luka said again, and she looked up at him for a moment and all he saw was blue, blue, blue, how could anyone’s eyes be so  _ blue _ . 

He kept it together long enough to say goodbye and get back inside, but only barely. Luka shut the door and put his back to it, sliding down to the floor and putting his head in his hands. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “This can’t be happening.” This had disaster written all over it. He couldn’t possibly be falling in love with Adrien’s ex-wife. 

But he was. Oh God, he was. And somehow he’d sung her his mother’s song and he missed his mom so much and now he was six different kinds of fucked up and it was a good thing Louis was his last lesson for the day, because he wasn’t sure he’d be getting up off the floor anytime soon.

Luka fumbled his phone out of his pocket and dialed, holding it up to his ear as he tangled his fingers in his hair and rested his forehead on his knees.

“Hey, Luka, what’s up?”

“Hey Jules.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Nothing major, anyway, just...sad. Do you think I could come over tonight? I’d really like to see my girls.”

“Of course,” Juleka replied, and he kind of hated the softening of her usual cutting tone. It made him feel even more pathetic. “Are you—do you need me to come home now?”

“No,” Luka said quickly. “No, I can wait until you’re off work.”

“Okay,” Juleka sighed. “If you’re sure. I’ll be home at six, but if you need to, you can go on over, you know Rose will be there.” 

“I don’t want to bother her,” Luka shook his head. “I know she’s been struggling emotionally since she had the baby, I don’t want to bring her down any worse. I’ll wait for you. I probably need a little time to get my head on straight anyway.”

“Okay, but you know we’re there if you need us, right?” Juleka sounded worried and Luka winced. 

“I promise, Jules, I’m okay. Just...some things got a little heavy today, and I started playing mom’s song without even thinking about it and it just kind of hit me like a truck, that’s all. I promise I’m okay this time.”

“Okay, bro,” Juleka sighed. “I gotta go, okay, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thanks Jules. Bye.” He set the phone down on the floor next to him and leaned his head back on the door.

He didn’t like to say he had taken his mother’s death harder than Juleka; they were a close-knit family and they  _ all _ felt the loss. Their grief just looked different. Juleka had Rose and now their daughter, and she couldn’t afford to fall apart all at once, so she did it in little pieces spread out over time. Luka had commitments he had to keep, and he had, but he’d had a lot more freedom to be crushed by the weight of losing his mother and the boat he’d grown up in. He put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of his face, blowing out a breath. 

Now he had a new problem. He was falling for Marinette. Maybe had fallen already. Probably was doomed the moment he opened the door that first day and forgot how to breathe. And as he sat there and admitted it to himself, the logical next question presented itself:

_ What are you going to do about it? _

The smart thing would be to do nothing. She was his student’s mother and his friend’s ex-wife. He didn’t see her outside of work except for that one time. He could ignore it, write a few songs about it and move on. Maybe go on some dates to take his mind off it. Juleka had been bugging him to go out again.

The thought of dating again made him sigh. The whole cycle of dating just exhausted him. He led something of a double life, mild-mannered music teacher by day and rock guitarist by night, and it felt like he was always disappointing the people he dated eventually, because he didn’t care about the conventional definitions of success. Luka wasn’t ambitious; he didn’t need to be a rock star or a virtuoso. Music had always been about connection for Luka. He liked playing small venues and he liked teaching his students. At the same time, he loved playing his own music, he loved playing with the band, and he wasn’t about to give that up either. Introverted by nature, dealing with his kids and clients and crowds already wore him out—usually in a good way, a  _ ready to recharge and go to bed at the end of the day _ way. Add dating into that though, and...ugh. 

Luka couldn’t remember the last he’d been excited to go out with someone. What was the point? How could you connect with someone when you spent the whole day dreading the experience? So he just...stopped. Dating for the sake of dating, anyway. He’d always thought when he met someone that made him think it’d be worth it, he’d try again.

Lately Luka had started to entertain the thought that he had Juleka and Rose and his niece and his music kids, and maybe that should just be enough for him. And it...sort of was. Sometimes. 

But Marinette...she would be worth it. He  _ wanted _ to go out with her, he wanted to know her better. The thought of holding her, kissing her, sent a visceral longing through him he hadn’t felt since his last serious relationship. And...she’d seemed a little bit into him too. Attracted to him, at least. Maybe there was a chance, if he was willing to take it, but...

Luka slid his hands down his face and stared over his fingertips into his empty apartment.

* * *

It was hard, waiting for Juleka to get out off work, and Luka was knocking on their door before Juleka had even had time to change out of her work clothes. He planted himself on the couch and fidgeted until she came back. 

“Sorry,” Juleka said, handing him a soda. “Rose doesn’t want to drink while she’s nursing so we don’t have any beer.”

“It’s fine,” Luka sighed. “Probably the last thing I need right now anyway.” He looked longingly at the baby carrier strapped to Juleka’s chest. Luka’s heart eased a bit just looking at her. “Mind if I hold her for a bit?” 

Juleka smiled, took Angelique out of the baby carrier, and handed her over carefully. Luka grinned down at the scrunched up little face. “Hey, you,” he cooed. “How’s my best girl?” 

Angie’s newborn-blue eyes were squinty and unfocused, but she turned her head towards him, wiggling in her wrap. Luka sighed and murmured “I wish Mom could have seen her.”

Juleka raised her eyebrows. “Is that really why you sounded so messed up when you called? Missing Mom?” 

“Some of it,” Luka sighed again. “Hang on, I’m moving out of smacking range before I tell you this one.” He slid to the far end of the couch.

“What did you do,” Juleka groaned, letting her head fall back against the couch. “Damnit, Luka.”

“I haven’t even said anything!”

“Fine, then say it so I can get on with complaining about what an idiot you are.”

Luka eyed her for a minute before admitting, “It’s a girl.”

“ _ Damnit _ , Luka!”

“Real encouraging, Jules,” Luka snapped, getting a little irritated. Angie made a fussy noise and he automatically began rocking her, making a gentle shushing noise near her ear.

“So,” Juleka sighed, when Angelique was quiet again, “Lay it on me.”

Luka told her the whole story, as honestly as he could manage. How Adrien had come to him for help. How he’d met Marinette. How he’d reacted to meeting Marinette. How she was sweet and pretty and kind, and even though he hadn’t known her very long, but—

“You never know them very long,” Juleka muttered. “That’s your problem. If you would go out and meet some real people, make some friends, you might have better luck.”

Luka didn’t bother answering. That was an old argument. It was something Luka had accepted about himself that Juleka never quite had. Most of the time, he felt an instant connection, or none at all. 

“Well,” Juleka said slowly, picking at a loose thread on the battered couch. “What are you going to do about it?”

Luka sighed. He’d been stewing over that all day. “She’s Adrien’s ex-wife.”

“Emphasis on the ex.”

“He’d probably be really hurt,” Luka mused, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I know the divorce wasn’t his idea.” Juleka didn’t respond right away and Luka frowned. “You’re making the face.”

“What face?” 

“The face you make when you’re trying to be tactful,” Luka said wryly. “Just spit it out, Jules, you suck at tact.”

“First, bite me, and second, they’re divorced.” Juleka shrugged. “She left him. Unless you think they might get back together—” Luka shook his head. “Then I know there’s probably some stupid bro code bullshit but—” Juleka made a gesture that clearly showed her opinion of that. “You’d hate yourself if you missed out on something great for such a stupid reason. He really doesn’t have any right to be upset. Marinette’s the one who decides who she wants to be with, if anyone. Besides, you and Adrien hadn’t seen each other in years until he called needing your help.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re not friends,” Luka protested. “You’re so desperate for me to be in a relationship that you’ll justify anything,” he grumbled, rubbing his cheek lightly against Angie’s soft hair.

“If you believed that you wouldn’t be here asking me for advice.” She paused. “And I’m only desperate for you to be happy. I just know you’re lonely. It’d be one thing if you were really happy on your own but we both know you’re not. And you know Mom would tell you to go for it if she were here.”

Luka scowled. “Low, Jules.”

Juleka spread her hands. “Disagree with me.”

Luka couldn’t because he knew she was right. Anarka had always been a  _ damn the consequences _ kind of woman, especially when it came to romance. 

“She’s a client,” he pointed out half-heartedly. “It’d be unprofessional to ask her out when I’m working, and I wouldn’t do it in front of the kid anyway. You and I both know how crappy that feels. I feel bad that I let it slip in front of him this afternoon as it is. I’ve only ever seen her the one time outside of work, and that was a fluke.”

“A fluke, or an opportunity?” Juleka asked him, raising her eyebrows slightly. “Maybe you should see if the universe throws you another one. Do what you do best, go with the flow, and then seize the moment when it comes.”

“What if it doesn’t come?” Luka asked moodily. 

“Then maybe it wasn’t meant to be,” Juleka shrugged. “Or maybe you’re actually going to have to step up and make something happen. Your call, really.” She gave a lopsided smile. “How much faith do you have in the universe right now?”

Luka snorted. “You’re joking, right?” He jumped slightly as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and his eyes widened slightly. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“What?” Juleka said.

Luka picked up the call. “Hey Marinette,” he said as casually as he could manage, making sure  _ not _ to look at Juleka. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Luka, I’m so sorry to bother you,” she said, sounding flustered as usual, “I think I left a folder at your place this afternoon, and I was hoping I could come by and pick it up. Did you see it? It was pink and—well, it was a pink folder, it looks like any other folder except pink, I don’t know what I was trying to—anyway, have you seen it?”

“I haven’t,” Luka said, trying not to laugh. “But I can look for it when I get home.”

“Oh, you’re out—well, of course you’re out, why wouldn’t you be out, I’m stupid—”

Luka grinned in spite of himself, and turned his face away from Juleka’s rising eyebrows. “Yeah, I’m hanging out with my sisters tonight, but I could drop it by your office tomorrow if you like.”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to trouble you, I know you have students and...and whatever, so just let me know what time is good and I’ll come by and pick it up tomorrow?” 

“It wouldn’t be any trouble—” Luka began, and then changed his mind. “But if you’d rather pick it up that’s fine, just let me know when you’re heading over. I’ll look for it when I get home and text you?”

“That’s perfect, thank you,” Marinette said gratefully. “I’m so sorry, God knows what you must think about me after this afternoon as it is, and now I’m—”

“Stop, stop,” Luka said gently. “It’s fine, Marinette. You’re human and Louis said you’ve been working really hard. It’s great to be dedicated but don’t let it burn you out.” He caught the warning look Juleka gave him and broke off the lecture. “Anyway, I don’t think badly about you at all, so—so I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.” Juleka rolled her eyes at him and he made a face at her that meant  _ shut up _ . 

“Right, tomorrow. Um, goodnight, Luka.”

“Goodnight, Marinette,” Luka said, and hung up quickly, blowing out a breath. 

Juleka smirked at him. “Smooth.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” he muttered, chucking a throw pillow at her.

“Hey! Don’t curse in front of the baby, asshole!” she scowled, and then winced at a shriek of “Juleka!” from the doorway.

Luka grinned smugly. “Hey Rose.” Juleka subtly flipped him off where Rose couldn’t see.

“Hi Luka.” Rose leaned over the couch and kissed his temple, and while she greeted Juleka, Luka fished the two spa cards Marinette had given him out of his jacket pocket. 

“I’ve got something for you two,” he said, when they were ready to pay attention to him again. He held up the envelopes and Rose moved to take them from him. She opened one and gaped.

“Luka Couffaine!” she whisper-yelled, falling onto the couch next to him. “You did not spend this kind of money on us.”

“I didn’t, actually,” Luka grinned as Juleka reached to take the card from Rose and read it over. “They were a gift from a client. We were talking, and she said she remembered how hard it was to be a new mom, and that you deserved a day out. As it happens, I agree with her.” 

“But the baby—” Rose began, but Luka leaned over and patted her knee. 

“I can watch her for a day. Come on, Rose, you’ve barely left the house for a month except to go to the grocery store. You guys need some time for yourselves. I promise I can handle her long enough for you guys to go get a pedicure and a massage or whatever.”

“It would be nice,” Rose mused. 

“Is this the same client we were talking about?” Juleka asked suspiciously.

“Yes,” Luka admitted.

“Uh-huh.” Juleka pondered that for a moment. “Well, I definitely approve of you dating someone who gives these kinds of gifts.”

Rose’s head whipped around toward him so fast he was surprised she didn’t topple over. “You’re dating someone? Luka! Tell me everything  _ right now _ !”

Luka glared at Juleka. “You did that on purpose.”

“You should have known I would.”

Luka had to tell the whole story over again, and by the time Rose was done with her interrogation, he was ready to leave. He gave back the baby (who clearly needed a change at that point anyway), kissed both his sisters, and headed back to his own place.

When he got home, a quick search of the living room turned up Marinette’s folder between the couch and ottoman. 

“All right, universe,” he muttered under his breath, looking at the pastel sign from the gods in his hands. “You better not be fucking with me here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music in this chapter:
> 
> Beautiful Dreamer written by Stephen Foster has been done by many many artists. Here are a few versions I enjoy  
> [on the classical guitar performed by Raffy Lata](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3mjnZpyp4E)  
> [acapella by Sheryl Crowe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_aB1NOqC3Y)  
> [full version by Suzy Boggus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nut12cwKIw)
> 
> A Red, Red Rose was originally a poem by Scottish poet Robert Burns and you can read the original [here](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43812/a-red-red-rose). It's also been done by many people but this is the one I've been listening to:
> 
> [My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose by Eddi Reader](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUs-5dHFksw)


	3. Dreams Worth Chasing

Marinette was on her way to pick up her missing folder, and Luka had a plan. Sort of. He caught himself chewing his freshly painted thumbnail and made a face (both at himself and the taste). He was going to be a wreck by the time she got here if he didn’t do something. 

Luka picked up his electric guitar and cranked his amp. Rocking out was always the best way to deal with nerves. He was breathing a little hard by the time he finished his own version of Jagged Stone’s Rock Giant but he was comparatively relaxed when a slightly timid knock sounded on his door. 

Okay. He could do this. He _was_ smooth, no matter how much Juleka liked to pick on him. 

Luka opened the door and there she was, stylish and put together as always, and as always his heart stuttered in his chest. Her hair was looking a little windblown and a strand stuck to her lips. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw him, and he didn’t miss the way her gaze flicked over his white t-shirt and black jeans, nor the faint color that tinted her cheeks. He tended to keep his arms covered when he was with his students, as the type of parents who could afford his rates were often the type who didn’t really appreciate tattoos, but he’d left his arms bare today just to see if he’d been imagining things at the market. He concluded a little smugly that he hadn’t and Marinette wasn’t put off by his ink at all. That gave him the boost he needed to stop staring like an idiot himself.

“Come on in,” he offered, stepping back. “I put it in the back so I wouldn’t lose it or spill anything on it, I’ll go grab it. Make yourself at home.”

“Last time I did that I fell asleep,” Marinette said wryly, and he laughed, wincing slightly at how it echoed in the hallway.

“I hope you’re better rested today,” he called as he reached for the folder where he’d left it on top of his dresser. 

“I wish. Was that you playing just now?” she asked when he returned with the folder in hand, and then answered herself before he could. “Sorry, that was a stupid question, of course it was you. It was good—I mean of course, you’d be good, you’re a teacher. I just—I’m a big fan of Jagged Stone and…” She seemed to run out of steam, blushing.

He’d thought he was too old to get butterflies in his stomach but the idea that her slip-up at the market hadn’t been just a fluke, that she was nervous because maybe she was just a little bit affected by him too was enough to make him feel sixteen again for the second time in as many weeks. 

“I’m a teacher,” Luka said, leaning one shoulder against the wall as casually as possible. “But I’m a musician first and the electric guitar’s always been my first love. I play every chance I get. I’m glad you liked it, I’m a big fan of Jagged Stone myself.” He held the folder out to her.

Marinette took it, her gaze on the floor. “He’s actually one of my oldest clients.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “That’s impressive. Louis told me you worked for him, but I didn’t realize you’d been working with him that long.”

“It was luck that started it, really, but we’ve had a good working relationship. Not so much lately since he’s sort of semi-retired but…” She trailed off, blushing harder, and Luka gestured to a poster on his wall. 

“Louis told me you designed that one. He’s very proud of you. As he should be, I’m really impressed,” he said. “It’s one of my favorites.” He grinned back at her. “You’re really talented, Marinette.” 

She lit up red as a tomato and stammered something about needing to go.

“Of course,” he said, stepping back and motioning her ahead of him. “I don’t want to keep you if you’re busy.” _That’s such a lie. I want to keep you forever_.

He walked her to the door. _Now or never, Couffaine_.

“Marinette.” Luka took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and offered it to her. “If you’d like to hear more, my band is playing this weekend. I’d love for you to come.” 

“Oh,” Marinette said, taking the paper and unfolding it slowly to look at the flier. “I’m...not sure? I’ll have to see if I’m free.”

“I understand. Well, I hope you can make it.” He took a breath. “Maybe after our set is over, I can buy you a drink.” 

Her gaze snapped to his face and Luka did all he could to keep his expression relaxed and friendly, though his eyes were locked on hers. He shrugged slightly. “No pressure, just...if you feel like getting out.”

Marinette bit her lip and lowered her eyes, and then looked back up and smiled. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

“Great.” Luka smiled and opened the door for her. “Have a good week.”

She smiled back at him, blushing faintly. “Thanks. You too.”

He watched her get into her car, and then stepped back inside, shut the door, and leaned against it, all his breath rushing out with a woosh. “Your move, dreamer,” he muttered. “Hope I see you Saturday. If you come, it’s on.” 

* * *

Luka went through his usual pre-show routine, and his body and mind readied themselves to sink into the music in response. If he had something different than usual dwelling at the corners of his mind, no one noticed, and no one spoke to him, his bandmates having long ago learned to respect his space before a show.

If there was any place at all that Luka could feel at home outside of his family, it was at the club. He’d practically grown up in the back rooms of clubs and bars and anywhere else they could find that had a stage and somewhere to plug in an amp, trailing behind his mother with Juleka’s hand held tightly in his. Anarka Couffaine was fiery and bombastic where Luka was quiet and calm, but once he began to take the stage, first by her side and later on his own with Juleka at his, it became obvious he was his mother’s son. The stage contained and tempered Anarka’s fire, taming it into something other people could share. It fanned Luka’s flame, giving him the energy to reach out, to connect, to give others a glimpse of the inner world he guarded so carefully.

If Marinette was out there, beyond the stage light and the wall of crowd noise, she would see him tonight. 

_She’s here,_ he thought to himself as he picked up his guitar and stripped the strap over his head. _She has to be._

No way he was going to fumble it this time. He was in his element here, he’d made his choice, made his peace with it, and now there was nothing left to do but act.

Behind him, the count tapped out, and Luka played.

* * *

For once, the pounding of his heart didn’t stop when he stepped off the stage. Luka accepted and returned the fistbumps and backslaps and congratulations of his bandmates on an excellent show. He stowed his gear as quickly as he could, and grabbed the extra bag he’d packed.

There was only so much he could do in the small, cramped bathroom, but he got his stage makeup washed off, freshened up as much as he could, and changed his shirt. He redid his eyeliner and ruffled up his hair, before taking a deep breath. He tossed his bag in the back with the rest of his stuff, and went to look for Marinette. 

He found her faster than he expected, wearing a slinky red dress and her hair pinned up, standing at a table with a couple of other people. Luka lingered just a moment to prepare himself and then slipped through the crowd and touched her elbow. “Hey, Marinette. Glad you could make it.”

“Luka!” The smile she turned on him was blinding. “Luka that was amazing!” 

He grinned back, instantly captivated. “Thanks, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I loved it! Oh!” She jumped as the brunette next to her elbowed her. “Um, Luka, this is my best friend Alya, and I’m pretty sure you and Nino have met.”

“We have. Good to see you again, Nino.” He exchanged a handshake and a shoulder bump with the other man, trying not to sigh at this slight complication. He hasn’t counted on having to hit on Marinette in front of her ex-husband’s best friend. 

Not that it was going to stop him.

Nino gave him a neutral nod as he pulled back. “Hey Luka, long time no see. The band was sick.” 

“Thanks,” Luka grinned, and offered his hand to Alya. “Nice to meet you, Alya.” She took his hand and looked him up and down, but not like she was checking him out—more like she was sizing him up. Luka had been on the receiving end of the BFF stare too many times to be bothered. He gave her his blandest smile and turned to Marinette. “So, can I buy you that drink?”

Marinette’s cheeks pinked. “Sure.” 

He walked Marinette to the bar and let her order what she liked, and got a beer for himself. “So you liked the set?”

“I loved it,” Marinette smiled up at him. “The covers were cool but there were some original songs in there too, right? I really liked the one you did…” She gestured vaguely, forehead creasing in thought. “Umm, I think it went ‘not the right hand, not the right touch, but she always said I needed too much’? And it had that amazing guitar solo in the middle? That was my favorite.”

“Yeah?” Luka grinned, leaning against the bar. “I wrote that one, I’m glad you liked it.”

Marinette’s eyes went huge. “You wrote it? Like out of nothing?”

“More or less,” Luka chuckled. “I roughed it out and wrote the instrumentals, and our vocalist Jenner, he helped me work out the lyrics and the vocals. Only fair, really, since he had to sing it. I can usually put the melodies together on my own, but I always have to have some help with the words.”

“The melodies were so evocative and emotional though,” Marinette said, picking up her drink as the bartender delivered it. “The words are just the icing on the cake.” 

“That’s nice of you to say,” Luka picked up his beer and motioned Marinette to precede him back to the table. 

Marinette didn’t move right away, giving him an adorably pouty look that came with such sad eyes that it made him want to cringe. “You make it sound like you think I’m insincere.”

“That was absolutely not my intention, I’m sorry.” Luka sighed and drummed his fingers on the bar, trying to find a better way to explain. “People tend to...notice words more, I guess. When people talk to us about a song they usually talk about how the words affected them, or that they thought this or that thing we did with the instrumentals is cool or catchy. I don’t get a lot of people who talk about how the music itself made them feel. So, what I meant was, thank you. That’s nice to hear.”

“Oh.” Marinette tucked a strand of hair back, clearly processing. “Then...you’re welcome. I really do feel that way, especially…” she hesitated, tilting her head slightly as she looked up at him. “Especially when you were taking the lead. I mean, I’m no expert, but, um...wow. That was incredible, what you can do with that guitar.” 

It might be a shy, hesitant flirt, but he’d take it. He leaned into her space just a little, one hand resting on the bar next to her elbow. “Well, considering you’ve spent a lot of time around Jagged Stone—and don’t think I don’t know he’s not the only musician you’ve worked with—I think I’m very flattered, expert or no.” 

He couldn’t quite see if she was blushing in the blue light coming off the bar, but he was pretty sure she was as she stammered something about getting back to the table and turned quickly, nearly tripping in her haste to put some space between them. Luka caught her arm to steady her, and rested just his fingertips on her back as he tried to shield her from some of the jostling of the crowd as they wound their way back to the table. Once over her initial fluster, she leaned back into his protection almost automatically, tucking her petite figure against his side when things got a bit tight. 

When they got back to her friends, Marinette excitedly recounted their conversation. It wasn’t quite enough to make Luka blush, he knew what his strengths were, but it did make it easy to keep a smile on his face. 

As Marinette talked on, Alya fixed Luka with a stare. When there was a lull in the conversation, she said, “Marinette, why don’t you go grab us another round.”

Marinette frowned. “Alya, nobody’s even finished—”

“Food,” Alya declared. “Get us some food. Please.” She reached over and slid Marinette’s glass in front of her. “I’ll watch your drink. Shoo.” 

Marinette rolled her eyes and stood up. “Rude,” she sniffed. “You better not ditch Luka all by himself while I’m gone.”

“Of course not!” Alya promised.

Luka frowned, wanting to offer to go in Marinette’s place, or at least to go with her, but it was obvious that Alya just wanted Marinette out of the way. If that was the case he might as well sit here and get it over with. The crowd was clearing a bit as the DJ got rolling, people pressing toward either the bar or the dance floor, so she’d probably be okay.

Sure enough, as soon as Marinette was out of earshot, Alya rounded on him. “So what’s the deal? Are you into my girl or what?”

Direct. He could appreciate that. “Yes.” He lifted his bottle to his lips, watching Marinette over Alya’s shoulder trying to make her way through the crowd. 

“Like a house and picket fence interested or like take her home and fuck her brains out interested?”

“Alya!” Nino hissed, looking horrified.

Luka barely managed to swallow before he laughed, putting his drink back down. “Both.”

“Oh my God,” Nino groaned, putting his hands over his face.

Alya grinned. “Good answer, Blue.”

“It’s Luka,” he said, amused. 

“Make it past the second date and I’ll consider remembering that. So you teach music for a living?”

“I do all kinds of music for a living, but my steadiest income comes from my students, yes.”

“And you’re okay with being a stepdad?”

“You really don’t have to answer any of this,” Nino broke in. “Alya, come on.”

Luka ignored him. “Totally. Louis is a great kid and I like him. Honestly I didn’t have the greatest example in the dad department myself, so it’s a little scary, but I can deal.”

“Would you want more kids than just Louis?”

“Sure, I’d be open to that someday. Though I’d want us all to get settled with each other first before we brought a baby into the mix.” Luka sat back and let Alya continue giving him the third degree, refusing to answer only a few _very_ personal questions. Finally she folded her arms and regarded him thoughtfully.

Luka smiled. “So, do I pass?”

Alya snorted. “If you can live up to half of what you just said I’ll gift wrap her for you myself.” She leaned forward. “Take advantage of my girl and I’ll kill you. Push her into anything before she’s ready and there are no words for the kind of hell I will put you through.”

“Noted,” Luka replied without any change of expression. Alya gave a nod and stood up.

“Listen, be blunt with her. She’s terrible at flirting. You have no idea how many men hit on her and she never even noticed. If you just hint around like you did with this, even if you think you’re being obvious at the time, she’ll convince herself it doesn’t really mean what you’re trying to mean. Now I better go help Marinette or we’ll be waiting here all night.”

“I can’t believe you let her grill you like that,” Nino said as Alya walked away, his eyes glued to her...back. 

“It’s not the first best friend interrogation I’ve been through, although that was one of the more entertaining,” Luka grinned, propping his thick boots up on the currently empty chair next to him. “It’s usually easier to just go with it. What’s the harm if it gets her on board?”

There was no answer, and Luka looked over to find Nino regarding him soberly. “What?”

“Nothing, just...I thought you and Adrien were friends, dude.”

“We are.”

“You won’t be any more if he finds out you’re dating Marinette behind his back.”

“I’m not doing anything behind his back. If she actually agrees to go out with me, I’ll call and tell him myself.”

“He still loves her.”

Luka shrugged. “She still loves him too. You can see it every time she talks about him. But they’re done, and he doesn’t get a say anymore. And honestly man? If it was you and Alya was Adrien’s ex-wife, would it stop you?”

“You think you feel about Marinette like I feel about Alya?”

Luka looked across to where the girls were working their way back across the crowd. “Hell yeah,” he breathed. 

Nino blew out a long sigh, and lifted his glass. Luka clinked it with his bottle and they both took a long drink. “Then I guess, good luck, bro.” 

“Just do me a favor and don’t say anything to Adrien yet, okay?” Luka said. “I’m not asking you to lie to him if it comes up, but just leave it alone for now. She could still turn me down and I don’t want to cause a big shitstorm over nothing.”

Nino eyed him. “You’ll tell him before you two go out?”

“Absolutely.”

Nino sighed. “Okay.” 

The girls finally returned, setting an assortment of bar food on the table. “Dance with me, Nino,” Alya ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” Nino sighed, standing up with a put-upon air but a smile on his face. 

Luka watched them go and then turned back to Marinette as she settled back in her chair. 

“So,” Marinette sighed. “How bad was she?”

“Pretty bad,” Luka chuckled, and Marinette giggled nervously. “I didn’t mind though, she’s just looking out for you.”

“Sorry, I told her it wasn’t like that, but—“ she gestured vaguely, not meeting his eyes. 

Score one for the BFF. Blunt it is then. “What if it was like that?” Luka leaned his elbows on the table and tilted his head so that he was looking up at her. “What if I was hoping you’d come out tonight so that I could ask you out without being totally unprofessional?”

Marinette went red as a cherry and her mouth opened and closed and nothing came out. 

“I know we don’t know each other all that well, but I’d really like to change that.” He put his hand out, palm up, on the table. “So if you want, we can talk some and maybe dance a little and then, if you’re feeling it, I could take you out for coffee tomorrow?”

He could see her swallow. She looked like a deer in the headlights and he wondered if he’d been a little _too_ direct. Luka withdrew, sitting back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I won’t bring it up again.”

“No, I, it’s j-just, I mean I’m divorced and I have a k-kid and—and—“

“I know all that already,” Luka said gently, leaning forward again. 

“But—But I’m _boring_ and you’re all dyed hair and tattoos and you can play guitar like _that_ and—why would you want to go out with _me_?”

Luka’s smile spread slowly across his face. “Well that sounds like something we can talk about over coffee. If you’d like.” 

Marinette bit her lip and blushed, looking away, but he could see the smile tugging at her lips. "Coffee sounds nice," she finally managed, giving up on containing her smile. 

"Do you maybe want to join Nino and Alya on the dance floor?" he suggested. They both looked automatically towards the couple on the dance floor, only for Luka's eyebrows to raise and Marinette to bring a hand up to cover her jaw drop. 

"On second thought," Luka amended. "Maybe we'd better leave them to themselves." He coughed, trying to keep back his laughter. "Damn, I'm not sure whether to feel sorry for Nino or high-five him." He and Marinette exchanged a look, and they both broke down in a fit of laughter that lasted several minutes. 

* * *

When Marinette walked into the little coffee shop the next day, Luka had to slide his gaze away for a moment, trying not to remember how she looked under the club lights, her red dress swirling around her thighs when Alya had finally convinced her to dance while Luka and a still-flushed Nino watched from their table.

She was lovely in a different way today, soft and sweet in a peasant style top over jeans, her hair flowing loose around her shoulders. Luka was just as glad to be spared the distraction of her bare neck, though God did that loose hair make him want to tangle his fingers in it. 

He swallowed and managed to greet her in a mostly normal voice. “Can I get you something?” he asked her, but Marinette set her purse down and shook her head. 

“I’ll get it,” she smiled, and went to the counter to order. She didn’t ask for it to go, which he thought was a good sign. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” Luka asked when she came back and sat down at the table. “I hope we didn’t keep you out too late last night.”

“No, I’m fine,” Marinette said, waving her hands. “I’m kind of a night owl anyway, at least when Louis is with Adrien. Usually I’m designing and not dancing, but I had fun last night. A lot of fun. And the band, that was really great, I‘m really glad you invited me. ”

“That’s great to hear,” Luka smiled. “Have you thought about what we talked about?”

“I…” Marinette blushed, but went on bravely. “I like you, Luka. I think I’d like to go out with you. I just…” She chewed her lip.

“Go on,” Luka said gently. 

“I’m worried about Louis. And…” Marinette tapped a finger on her cup thoughtfully, staring at the table. “I’ve been with Adrien since we were kids. I’m not sure I even know what grownup dating looks like.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her eyes shot to his, like that was the last thing she’d expected him to say. Luka smiled at her. “I think it’s sweet. You were in love, you took a chance, and you gave it your best.” He took her hand carefully and squeezed it. “Listen, my sister and I were raised by a single mother, so I know at least a little bit about where you’re coming from—more than a little bit about where Louis is coming from, and I promise you I’ll be as sensitive with him as I can, and if we need to work with his therapist to figure out how to approach this with him then I’m absolutely willing to do that. But let me make something perfectly clear, Marinette. There is nothing wrong with you. You’re not leftovers or damaged goods or whatever other awful words that roll around in your mind when you hear the word divorce. You’re not a failure, you’re not a mistake, you’re not stupid for taking a chance on young love, and you are so far from being unloveable. Okay? And even if you decide that you don’t want to be with me, I don’t want you going into any other relationship thinking any of those things. So what if you don’t know what so-called ‘normal’ dating is? It’s not that big of a deal to ask a guy what that looks like to him and expect him to be honest back. _There is nothing wrong with you_. You are successful and smart and pretty and a great mom and there are a million guys out there who would fall all over themselves to date you. I’m just lucky enough to be the first in line.”

She stared at him, and he thought he saw a shimmer in the dim café lighting. Luka squeezed her hand and let go, standing up. “Tell you what, I’m gonna give you a minute. I’ll bring us back some pastries or something.”

When he got back to the table, Marinette looked a little more composed. “You’re very upfront with your feelings,” she observed quietly as he sat down.

“I try to be,” he agreed. “Partly because I’m not really that great with words and when I beat around the bush I end up creating a lot of misunderstandings. I’m not scaring you off, am I?”

“No, it’s just...I don’t think I’m as brave as you are.” Her gaze slanted away.

Luka touched the back of her hand. “May I?” She blushed and nodded, and he took her hand. “That’s all there is to it, Marinette. Just one decision at a time.” He held out his other hand. “It’s up to you.” She put her other hand slowly in his. “And if it’s too much and you change your mind, that’s okay too.” He opened his fingers so that he was just cradling each of her hands in his loosely. “You have a creator’s hands.” 

Marinette huffed. “Rough and scarred up?”

He grinned. “Just like mine. Although I would have said strong and capable.” 

She smiled self-deprecatingly. “I don’t think we compare. You’re a teacher and a musician. I just make clothes.”

“Art is art, Marinette, and don’t sell yourself short, I may not know much about fashion but I know that you don’t get a position like yours just because you can sew. And I doubt making clothes is all you do. You must have other interests. Can I ask about this?” He turned her hand slightly so that the ladybug tattoo was facing upwards.

“Oh,” Marinette said, blushing. “That was just—it was stupid.”

“I don’t think I believe that,” he said lightly. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I know tattoos can get really personal.”

Marinette’s eyes slid away. “Maybe sometime, just...not now.” 

“Sure,” Luka said easily, letting her turn her hand in his so the ladybug was out of sight. “So tell me something else I don’t know about you.”

“Oh. Um,” Marinette frowned for a moment, thinking, and Luka’s mouth twitched as he tried not to smile at how seriously she took the question. “My father’s a baker. He and my mother own the bakery on Rue Gotlib, and that’s where I grew up. Sometimes I still design cakes for my parents, just for fun.” 

He listened to her talk about her family, and volunteered information about his. “My father’s never really been in the picture,” he told her. “Oddly enough we’ve gotten closer since my mom passed, but he travels a lot, so I only really see him every once in a while when he’s in town. My sister lives here, though, and we’re really close. I think I told you she and her wife just had a baby about a month ago, so that’s been a bit of an adventure for all of us.” 

“I remember those days,” Marinette said sympathetically. “It’s a huge adjustment for everybody.” 

“They’re doing great with it,” Luka said, smiling fondly, pulling out his phone, and pulling up a picture. He and Juleka leaned over Rose where she lay in a hospital bed holding up a little pink bundle for the camera. “That’s my sister, and that’s her wife Rose, and that’s Angelique.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Marinette cooed, leaning closer, and Luka swiped through a couple more pictures—he and Juleka hugging, him holding the baby, Rose and Juleka asleep on each other side-by-side in the narrow hospital bed—until he found a close up of Angie. “She’s precious.” 

“She’s been a light in our world this past year, just getting ready for her and watching her grow in the sonogram pictures,” Luka said, putting away the phone a little reluctantly. “I painted the nursery three times because Rose couldn’t pick a color and I don’t regret a second of it.” Marinette giggled, a hand over her mouth, and Luka smiled at her. “I try to get over and see them as often as I can without being in the way. She’s just learning how to smile now.” 

“Ooooh,” Marinette swooned, putting her hands to her chest. “When Louis was that age, Adrien used to—” She broke off and bit her lip. 

Luka’s expression didn’t change. “Go on,” he encouraged. 

She did, haltingly, and it took a few minutes to find their rhythm again, but then it began to flow. Marinette seemed to find it easier to talk about other people rather than herself, a fact Luka filed away for reference. It was funny, the way she talked about her friends and Louis and even her assistant at work while only just touching on her own thoughts. Luka didn’t press, content for the moment to learn about whatever part of her life she felt comfortable sharing.

“I have to go soon,” Luka said regretfully, checking the time. “I do actually have some students today. So, how are you feeling about a date?” He leaned his elbows on the table, trying to keep his tone casual. “I’m thinking maybe we could check out a museum and a cafe?” 

“That—“ Marinette took a deep breath, and then smiled. “That sounds really nice. I’d love to go.”

Luka grinned and they both pulled out their phones and hashed out a time and place. 

“It’s a date then,” Luka said, once everything was settled. “I have to go now, but...I’m really looking forward to it.” He reached over and tucked a lock of hair gently behind her ear, letting his fingers brush her suddenly blushing cheek lightly as he drew back. “See you soon, Marinette.”

“See you soon, Luka,” she said shyly as he got up from the table. He glanced back with a smile as he opened the door, and the little ladybug danced as she waved.

* * *

_“Hi Luka. I got your message. What did you need? I thought the lessons were going well.”_

_”Hey, Adrien. Sorry to bother you but I...kind of need to talk to you about something. You’re probably not going to like it.”_

_“...You’re not calling to talk to me about Louis, are you?”_

_“No. I’m calling to tell you I’m taking Marinette out this weekend. On a date.”_

_“...”_

_“Adrien?”_

_“If I say I’m not okay with it?”_

_“Then things are going to be rough for a while, because I’m not disrespecting her by asking for your permission. It’s not up to you, man. But I didn’t want you to find out from somebody else and think I was hiding it.”_

_“I might appreciate that eventually. I’m having a bit of trouble mustering any appreciation at the moment.”_

_“I understand. I know this sucks, man. I’m sorry for that.”_

_“Not sorry enough to back off.”_

_“Would you?”_

_“God, I really hate you right now, Couffaine.”_

_“Understood. Let me know when you’re ready to talk.”_


	4. Beautiful Dreamer

The hard part, he thought, was over; the cards were on the table, he’d asked her out and she’d agreed. Even so, Luka suffered from an annoying lack of chill for the rest of the week. He kept it together for his students, but outside of work, he was nervous, jittery to a degree that was both embarrassing and frustrating. The days, which had been slipping past without much notice from Luka, were suddenly crawling by.

Luka found himself picking up his guitar more and more, trying to work out his feelings, or at least his nerves, through his music. He wasn’t entirely unsuccessful; he had most of a new song written, and when he sent a demo of his progress to the rest of the band the feedback was positive—more enthusiastically positive than it had been for any of his recent compositions, actually. Not that the feedback had been bad before, but the difference was noticeable. He made a mental note to revisit that with his bandmates later.

At least something good came out of his distraction. 

He cleaned his home, he organized his student files and his cabinet of inspiration music, and realized he hadn’t added to it in some time. That made him feel a little guilty. Luka usually tried to let his students pick their own music but he liked to have a variety of ideas on hand when they got stuck or needed a change. He hadn’t refreshed or even rotated the collection in months. 

Once that injustice had been rectified he was kind of out of productive uses for his energy. He played until his fingers were sore, he worked out until his arms felt like noodles and he thought another pushup might kill him, and when he couldn’t take it anymore, Luka picked up takeout and went over to bug Juleka and Rose and cuddle the baby. 

“You’re pathetic,” Juleka told him, her normal deadpan tones colored with fond amusement as she watched him, stretched out on her living room floor, playing with Angelique’s little hands and making silly faces at her while she lay on a blanket and blinked up at him. 

“Believe me, I know,” Luka said, smooching tiny fingers. “But I brought you dinner and it’s your favorite, so try not to give me too hard of a time over it.” 

“Mm.” 

Luka grunted as Juleka stepped on him on her way to the kitchen. “Don’t grow up to be mean like Mama J,” he whispered to Angie. “Be sweet like Mama Rose, okay?” 

“You know...I’m actually glad you’re nervous.”

Luka rolled to his side and looked back to find Juleka had paused. He noted with amusement her perfect modelesque three-quarter turn and over the shoulder look. “I thought I was embarrassing,” he said, propping his cheek on his fist. 

“You’re _always_ embarrassing,” Juleka agreed. “Even so. I’m glad you’re nervous. I’m glad you _care_ enough to be nervous.”

Luka looked down at the carpet, tickling Angie’s toes. “It’s been a rough year,” he agreed quietly. 

“Rose and I have been really worried about you,” Juleka sighed, turning around to face him fully and folding her arms. “We’re still worried about you, honestly. You’ve always been all about going with the flow but you’ve been taking it to an extreme for a while now. You don’t go out anymore except to come here. You don’t seem excited about anything anymore. You have good days every now and then but...it just makes me really happy to see that you care about this enough to be nervous. That’s all.” 

Luka felt a stab of guilt that made it hard to meet Juleka’s eyes. She’d had so much to deal with, and he hated to be a burden for her. 

She turned quickly and headed into the kitchen before he could say anything. Luka sighed and laid his head down on the carpet, letting Angie’s hand curl around his index finger. “Okay,” he breathed. “You can grow up a _little_ bit like Mama Jules.” 

* * *

The sun had mostly set and the lights of Paris were beginning to shine as Luka met Marinette in front of the Louvre. She was waiting for him by one of the fountains, staring into the foaming water rising from the middle. The fact that she was there eased at least some of the nervous energy fizzing under his skin. Luka had been a little afraid she would bail on him. Marinette didn’t answer when he called her name and jolted when he touched her arm.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, sliding his fingers down her arm to take her hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“I didn’t, um, I was just—just thinking,” she said, shuffling her feet and not meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so distracted, uh…”

“You were thinking or you were worrying?” Luka asked gently, ducking his head slightly to get a better look at her expression. “Marinette, if you don’t want to do this, or you’re not ready, or anything at all—” 

“No,” she said quickly, finally meeting his gaze. “No, I...I want to. I want this.” Her fingers tightened on his, almost painfully. “I just...don’t want to mess up.” 

Luka laughed, shaking his head. “It’s not a test,” he teased, tugging her hand lightly. “If you’re worried about impressing me, Marinette, here’s a hint.” He leaned down a little and grinned. “I’m already impressed.” 

She squeaked and blushed and Luka chuckled. “Do you want to go inside?” he asked, “Or would you rather watch the fountain a little more?” 

“Oh, no, we can—we can go inside, I was just, I mean, it’s pretty at night and—”

“You’re allowed to enjoy the fountain, Marinette. We can stay here and watch it all night if you want.” 

“No, really, I’m done,” she sighed, turning away from the fountain and facing him fully. “I’m ready.”

Luka smiled and stepped back, still holding her hand. “Then shall we?” 

Marinette broke into a genuine smile, and followed his gentle pull. 

It was late enough that the tourist crowds had gone to seek out the Paris nightlife, and the museum itself was relatively calm. 

“What would you like to see?” Luka asked once they were through the door and strolling through the wide halls. “Musée de la Mode, or have you been over that more times than you can count already?”

“I have,” Marinette admitted. “But honestly, I never get tired of it. I find new inspiration every time I go. Just breathing the history here is inspiring.” 

History smelled a lot like tourists to Luka, but he just smiled. “Do you want to do that, then?” 

“Wouldn’t you be bored? Isn’t there anywhere you want to go?” Marinette asked, looking up at him.

Luka shrugged. “I mostly just like to wander and see where I end up. It’s not hard to find things to appreciate here, and it’s actually been a really long time since I last came.”

“That’s true,” Marinette agreed. “I love it here.”

“And to tell you the truth,” he continued, “I find the passion of other creators inspiring all on its own. So why don’t we go see the Musée de la Mode if that’s what you want to do, and you can be my guide and explain to me what I’m seeing. My sister modeled for years until she retired to become a talent coach, so I’m not completely stupid on the subject, but I still know next to nothing about the artistry behind it, so I’d love your perspective.” 

She smiled shyly at him. “Okay.” 

They made their way to the correct wing, and after only a nudge or two from Luka, Marinette forgot her self-consciousness. She was beautiful in her enthusiasm, animated and glowing with repressed excitement as she got into her subject. The conversation was actually less one-sided than he expected. Fashion and music were both influenced by their historical and political context, and Marinette seemed interested in what he had to share as they talked about the various time periods. He blundered into one or two stupid questions but he actually didn’t mind looking a little silly when it made her laugh like that. As it turned out, the museum had recently begun their latest temporary exhibit, so there were several things that Marinette hadn’t seen. She fell silent as she examined the new pieces, but her alert curiosity was just as interesting to him, and Luka waited patiently each time until she was ready to move on—more and more reluctantly each time, it seemed. 

The next time she got caught up in a piece, Luka touched her arm. “Do you want to stop here for a little bit?”

Marinette turned wide eyes up at him. “Oh...no, no, that’s okay, um...I can...some other time or something, I can come back—” 

“Marinette,” Luka said, shaking his head slightly with a smile. “We’re in no hurry. We’re just here to have fun. There’s no schedule. If you want to sit down for a minute and just take something in, that’s cool. I don’t mind. Especially if something’s inspiring you, I don’t want you to rush through that just to accommodate me. Shall we sit down?” 

Marinette hovered, looking a bit like a deer in the headlines, suspended in indecision. Luka felt a pang in his heart for her. “There’s no schedule,” he repeated. “Just you and me. We can stay here and look at this one piece until closing if you like, it’d be fine with me. You’ve taught me a lot and I wouldn’t mind taking a breather just to let everything sink in.” 

That seemed to tip her. “You’re sure you don’t mind?” she asked weakly. 

“I don’t mind at all.” Luka turned and sat on a nearby bench. “See? This is fine. I’ll just relax here for a minute, you look as long as you want.” 

They spent the rest of the visit lingering in that one small area, Marinette hovering back and forth between a few pieces, and occasionally coming back to the bench to sit down and sketch something in a small notebook she had in her purse, talking distractedly to him about her thoughts and ideas. Luka didn’t understand more than half of it, partly because his knowledge of fashion and its terms was still pretty lacking and partly because Marinette frequently interrupted herself, changing direction mid-sentence. Luka didn’t mind; he found her creative process as fascinating as the art around him and his heart leaped every time she touched him without thinking, her hand catching his arm or pressing his knee when she was struck by a new idea.

Luka tried to be useful, to ask helpful questions when she wavered and give opinions only when she asked him, to _not_ get caught staring at the way she pursed her lips and scrunched her nose when she was concentrating or the bounce in her step when she ran back to look at some piece or another that she wanted another look at. 

“I hate to say this,” he murmured finally, keeping his voice low to avoid startling her as he leaned one arm on the bench behind her. “But they’re going to be closing soon. Best wrap up if you can.” 

Marinette’s head shot up and she looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Oh, I—I didn’t realize I was spending so much time—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted her, unable to resist reaching up to slide a stray lock of hair back from her cheek and over her ear and pleased by the way she blushed at his touch. “I didn’t mind it, honestly, I’m really enjoying myself actually. I just don’t want you to get caught in the middle of something, so go ahead and get to a stopping place if you can.” 

Marinette bit her lip and looked down. “I’m...really enjoying this too. It’s been a long time since someone had time to listen to me ramble who wasn’t paid to, and you’re a good person to bounce ideas off of. Thank you. Sorry for taking up so much time though.” 

“If I’m having fun and you’re having fun I don’t see that there’s much to apologize for,” Luka chuckled. “I wouldn’t object to spending more time with you, though...would you like to take a walk when we’re done here?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, a shy but happy smile spreading over her face. “I’d really like that, Luka.” 

Her cheeks pinked at the slow smile that spread over his face in response. “Then finish up,” he said, “and we’ll take a walk. We’ve still got about half an hour before they come to kick us out.” 

She turned back to her paper and Luka tried to use the time to get himself together. She was too cute and whatever tiny chance there had been that going out with her would cure his infatuation was rapidly diminishing. 

* * *

They stopped to get crêpes from a street vendor and ate them on a bench by the fountain Marinette had been admiring previously. Marinette seemed deep in thought, still immersed, he suspected, in whatever inspiration she’d found in the museum, so Luka stayed quiet, though he was itching to know what was going on in her head. 

He was watching her absently lick the last bit of cream off her lip when she shook her head slightly, and as she looked up and smiled at him he felt her come back to the moment and smiled back. 

“Shall we walk?” he asked, before she could apologize again, and offered his arm once they’d tossed their trash. “You found your calling early, didn’t you?” Luka asked as they began to walk. “Did you go to school for it too?” 

The night was brisk but not uncomfortable, and as clear a night as Paris ever got. School seemed to be a comfortable subject, long enough ago for both of them not to bring on too many painful memories, and they swapped stories as they strolled along. 

They broke off to listen as they approached a set of street musicians, a small group playing instruments as a man and a woman sang. 

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Marinette breathed. “It’s not in French, though, is it? I wish I could understand it.”

“It’s Italian,” Luka told her. He concentrated for a moment, listening. “It’s about someone who thought they’d given up on finding love, but now they’ve met someone and those feelings are coming back.”

“You speak Italian?” she whispered to him as the instruments took over.

“Music terminology’s almost all in Italian,” he shrugged. “And I needed a language requirement for my degree anyway, so it seemed like the naturaI choice. I speak some Scots and some English too, but I got those mostly from my mom and dad, not formal training. Would you like to dance?”

“Oh, I—“ Marinette looked around. One or two couples were swaying together. “Um, s-sure?” 

“That sounds like a no, Marinette.” He nudged her lightly with his shoulder. “It’s okay, we don’t have to. We can listen for a bit and then move on if you like.”

She smiled up at him weakly. “I’m kind of terrible at this, aren’t I? First I lecture you, and then I ignore you, and everything I say has you wondering if I really want to be here.”

“You’re kind of out of practice,” Luka chuckled, reaching to catch another stray bit of hair that the wind was whipping across her face and tuck it behind her ear. “That’s okay. But I’d rather you didn’t agree to things you’d rather not do just to make me happy. If you don’t want to do something or don’t like something we’re doing, I wish you’d just tell me.” 

Marinette sighed, and gave him an apologetic smile. “You’re right. I’ll do better. Um, no, thank you, as much as the _idea_ of dancing is appealing, the _reality_ of it in my case...well. I’m kind of a klutz and I have two left feet and I prefer to dance in places where I’m not going to draw so much attention.” 

Luka grinned. “See? Not so bad, was it?” 

“It was a little bad,” Marinette pouted. “You’re probably an amazing dancer.” 

Luka snorted. “I’m an average dancer,” he corrected her with a grin. “Off the stage, I have good rhythm but no style, as my sister frequently tells me. You’re probably used to all kinds of fancy moves and aside from a few Scottish reels that would not go at all with an Italian love song, all I can do is a good old-fashioned sway-in-a-circle slow dance.” They both laughed.

“It would be amazing to dance like that after years of being critiqued after ever stupid party and social function and—” she cut herself off and shook her head briskly and said, “You know what? I think a good old-fashioned sway-in-a-circle slow dance sounds _amazing._ Will you dance with me, Luka?” 

“I’d love to,” he chuckled, stepping towards her and lifting his hands to her waist as she put hers on his shoulders. Just as they came together, the singers hit a final, long note, and the song was over. Luka and Marinette looked at each other, and both broke down laughing, leaning on each other for a moment before slowly separating. “Maybe we should just keep walking,” Luka suggested, still laughing as he took her hands. “Shall we?”

“Please,” Marinette grinned up at him, eyes sparkling as she squeezed his hands, and his eyes fell to her lips shimmering pink in the light from the streetlamps. He took a deep breath and dropped one hand, tugging her gently into place beside him with the other as he angled their walk towards Pont Neuf. 

* * *

“I don’t have anything against digital music,” Luka protested, as they strolled beneath the trees of the Square du Vert-Galant where it jutted out into the Seine. “The computer can be an instrument just like anything else in the hands of an actual musician, but XY, he’s just...his music is just so tired and unoriginal. It’s like he’s not even trying. Maybe sometimes he comes up with things that aren’t painful to listen to, but even his good stuff doesn’t have any soul. I’d never judge anybody for making money with their music, but I question whether he does it for any reason _but_ money.”

“It’s true, his music is very…” Marinette wrinkled her nose. “Bland. Heartless is a good way to put it.” 

“I’m glad we agree,” Luka grinned at her as they paused at the point of the triangular walkway, where the Seine surrounded them. He nodded at the river. “I grew up on a houseboat on the Seine,” he said. “Coming down here is kind of like coming home.”

“Do you miss it?” Marinette asked.

“Sometimes,” he sighed. “It was cramped and it was messy and nothing was ever where you left it because the wind would pick up and rock the ship juuuust enough to roll stuff under the furniture. Sometimes my friends would get seasick when they visited, and we were always stepping all over each other, but...it was home, you know? Do you miss the bakery?” 

“Sometimes,” she echoed back to him, and they shared a smile. “It was too warm, and my parents were always working and sometimes there were days when I didn’t want to be nice to everybody but I had to because we couldn’t offend a customer. And whenever Papa wasn’t paying attention and burned something it took forever for the smell to go away.” She shrugged. “But sometimes, the smell of fresh bread makes me tear up a little bit, you know?”

“The Seine doesn’t smell as good as bread,” he chuckled. “But I know exactly what you mean.” He took a breath, and sang lightly, “I’ve been walking, walking these shores all my days.” He grinned at her as he finished, “But with you by my side I am walking on the waves.” 

Marinette giggled, covering her mouth at the girlish sound. Luka just grinned wider and looked back to the river. 

“Do you have a song for everything?” she asked, bumping against him lightly.

Luka shrugged, pleased that she felt comfortable enough to tease him. “I’m a collector, I guess. There’s always memories in music for me.” He took a deep breath of the cold wind coming off the river and was hit by a wave of nostalgia. “My love is like a red red rose, that’s newly sprung in June,” he sang softly. “My love is like a melody that’s sweetly played in tune.” He sighed, and Marinette squeezed his arm. He looked at her and smiled softly. “As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,” he sang, “How deep in love am I…” He reached out and tucked that loose strand of hair behind her ear again. “And I will love thee still my dear, till all the seas run dry.” 

Marinette blushed and looked away. Luka started them slowly walking again, turning his back to the river. “I still can’t sing the second verse,” he said. “The narrator goes far away, but swears they’ll come back.” He swallowed, looking away. “But she’s not coming back, no matter how much I wish she would.” He smiled ruefully at her. “I guess being down here reminds me of her. God, sorry, you’d think I’d be past it by now, but...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“You didn’t,” Marinette smiled, nudging him with her arm. “And I don’t think it’s something you get over, not completely. You can’t put a timeline on that kind of grief.” She sighed. “I think it’s beautiful that you loved her so much. I’m really close with my parents too, always have been. I can’t imagine losing them. I know it’s not something I’d get past easily.” She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked, as another chill breeze swept through. “We can go somewhere else if the wind is too much.”

“No, this is good,” she said, snuggling into his arm a little. Then she seemed to realize what she was doing and straightened. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be, not on my account.” He slipped his arm around her waist and tugged her gently into his side, but kept his hold loose and easily broken. “I didn’t ask you out because I wanted you to keep your distance. I’m happy if you’re comfortable being close to me.”

Marinette looked down. “I still think you could do better.”

Luka stopped walking and faced her. “Marinette, when you say you aren’t special it just makes me want to show you even more that you are.”

She went from pink to red. “But—” 

“No, no, turn it around,” he chuckled. “I’ve been on _maybe_ three dates in the last year, all firsts, and all pretty much to get my sister off my back. You’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to spend time with in forever. Not only that, you’re a business executive and a famous fashion designer with an international brand. I’m just a musician, and not a very ambitious one at that. I like playing small venues and I like teaching my students. No plans for stardom here.” Luka spread his arms a little, as if inviting her to check him for hidden ambitions. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Marinette said earnestly, surprising him a little. “There’s a lot to be said for doing what you love and not letting money twist it into something you didn’t mean it to be.” 

Luka let his hands fall and put his arm back around her waist, starting them walking again. They walked in silence for a moment before Marinette spoke again. “It used to be my greatest dream to work for _Gabriel_ ,” she said wistfully. “But I never thought I’d be there forever, you know? It was always just the first step.”

“What’s the next step?” Luka asked curiously.

“Apparently there isn’t one,” Marinette said bitterly, and then sighed, hanging her head a little. “I can’t leave,” she said quietly. “There’s no one else to step up and take my place as head designer. _Gabriel_ ’s stocks took a huge hit during the divorce because everybody assumed I would quit. There’s other designers but no one with the kind of understanding I have of _Gabriel_ ’s customers, and no one the shareholders would trust because _I_ was trained by Gabriel Agreste himself in his vision.” 

“What about your vision?” Luka asked, squeezing her lightly, and Marinette scoffed. 

“Gabriel made it clear a long time ago that, much as he respected my talent, he had no room for my vision. Customers want a consistent, unified approach, classic with just enough innovation to keep things fresh, but not so much that they think it’s too risky.” 

Luka frowned. “Gabriel’s gone, though. I mean, I don’t know anything about fashion and not a whole lot more about business, but shouldn’t you be able to take the company any direction you want?”

Marinette shook her head sadly, staring at the ground. “His legacy remains, and Adrien wants to keep it that way.”

Luka bit back something impolite. He’d long since given up Adrien’s dad as not worth thinking about, but he couldn’t help feeling a sudden flash of annoyance at his friend. How stupid could you be, to put someone with Marinette’s passion and creativity inside a box like that and insist she stay there for—what? Loyalty to a man who had treated his son like dirt, or worse, like nothing more than a company asset, his whole life? 

“If you could do anything you wanted,” he said, genuinely curious, “What would you do?” 

“I’d start my own brand from the ground up,” Marinette said immediately. “I know it sounds stupid, but I’d go back to working in my home on commission and I’d start from scratch. Build my business the way _I_ want it. Build a brand with _my_ name on it and not Gabriel’s.” She sighed. “Maybe it’d never be as big...it’s kind of a late start after all. But at least it would be mine.” 

Luka smiled. “It doesn’t sound stupid at all. Maybe I haven’t known you all that long but I feel like I know you well enough to say you’re an independent type of person. I can see how having something that’s yours and building it yourself would appeal to you.”

“Most people would give a limb to have the kind of boost early on that I did,” Marinette snorted softly. “To throw away all that, it’s...it’s crazy.”

“You didn’t do it for the boost, though,” Luka replied, finding it hard to keep from pulling her closer. “You did it because you loved Adrien and that was the price of being with him. Why would you think less of yourself for that?” 

“Because I—” Marinette burst out, and then paused, and lowered her voice, and Luka felt a pang. He’d seen Adrien do exactly the same sort of thing. “Because I ought to be grateful, instead of resenting it. Anyone else would have been ecstatic.”

“Maybe,” Luka conceded. “But no one who felt that way would have loved Adrien as honestly as you did.” He sighed. “I feel bad for Adrien, I feel bad that he got dealt such a shit hand with his family. I feel bad that it seems like he couldn’t let go even after Gabriel died. I feel bad for him that all that cost him someone like you. And I’m sorry, I’m supposed to be showing you a good time, and instead we’re stuck on depressing things.” 

Marinette smiled. “Maybe you should sing for me again.” 

Luka’s grin was mischievous. “Maybe I should. Beautiful dreamer,” he sang, and Marinette groaned. “Wake unto me…” 

“Luka!” Marinette whined over him as he continued, trying to control his laughter. Marinette turned away from him, folded her arms and pouted. 

“Beautiful dreamer,” he sang, reaching for her hands. Turning her back towards him and leaning close, he locked eyes with her, voice going from teasing to earnest. “Queen of my song, list while I woo thee with soft melody.” Marinette blushed. “Gone are the cares of life’s busy throng,” he leaned closer, eyes on her lips. Her eyes widened and her breath quickened. “Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me.” He changed course quickly and kissed high on her cheek. He laughed as Marinette blushed and spluttered, and then she shoved him hard with both hands, making him stagger. 

“This is so unfair,” she hissed. “I’m such a disaster and you’re so smooth and cool and calm—“

Luka caught her wrist and pulled gently. “Come here, dreamer.” He pulled her forward gently until he could lay her hand on his pounding heart. Her eyes widened slightly as he covered her hand with his own and laced his fingers through hers to hold her there. “It’s been doing that since we met,” he told her softly. “I’m crazy about you, Marinette, and I am nowhere close to calm.” Luka watched her lips part in surprise, saw her gaze darken. He didn’t even realize he was leaning in until her free hand slipped behind his neck and her face tilted up to meet him. He held her eyes until just before he slowly, softly pressed his mouth to hers, deepening it when she pressed closer to him. She made a helpless noise in her throat and pushed up on her toes as he wrapped his arm around her waist. When she didn’t pull away he grew bolder, nipping lightly at her lower lip and dipping his tongue into her mouth when she gasped. It felt so good, the way she clung to him, so warm and alive and moving in sync with him like they were made for each other. Her hand moved from his hair to his face, down his neck and across his shoulder, around to his back, the roving of her fingers as intoxicating as the movement of her mouth against his. His own hand ached to wander but he kept it firmly planted against her lower back, pressing her into him.

When her lips left his, he didn’t open his eyes right away, taking a moment to breathe. Beneath their hands his heart was beating even harder than before, if that was possible, and he felt her fingers flex against him as she sank back until her heels were on the ground once more. 

When he did finally look, her cheeks were turning a deep pink that matched her sweet lips, and he could see the panic slowly growing in her eyes. He bent and kissed her again, softly this time, reassuring. “That was amazing,” he murmured, nuzzling her cheek. “Don’t be upset, Marinette, please. We can go as slow as you need to, baby, okay? You’re all right. I’ve got you.” He let go of her to move his hands to her arms and rubbed up and down gently. She let out a shaky breath, and leaned into him. Luka folded her into his arms, shifting his rubbing to her back. After a minute, she raised her face, nose nudging his shyly, and he obliged her with more soft, affectionate kisses. 

Eventually she grew brave enough to kiss him, to shyly taste his lips and explore his mouth. He kept her wrapped up tight and safe and let her set the pace, enjoying the different kind of torture her painfully, deliciously slow escalation played on his deprived body. 

At last she pulled away from his lips, panting lightly, pushing against his chest until he loosened his arms around her. “I think, um...I think I need to stop.”

“Okay,” he said, nuzzling her jaw and leaving one last soft kiss at the hinge. “You want me to take you home?” 

“Yes.” 

“Can I see you again, Marinette?” he asked, a little nervously. Maybe this had all been too much for her, maybe she really wasn’t ready, and what was he going to do if that were so? He was already in so deep…

“Yes, please,” she said, burying her face in his neck. “Soon.”

Relief made him weak, and he was glad to hold onto the rail when they went down the stairs of the metro station. Once again he felt like a stupid teenager, giddy to be holding hands and leaning on each other on the ride back to Marinette’s home. As he was walking her up the stairs to her apartment, something else occurred to him.

“What do you want to do about Louis? It’s your call, of course, but if we’re going to do this again, I feel like we should talk to him,” Luka said, caressing her knuckles absently with his thumb. 

“Yes, I was thinking that too,” sighed Marinette. “I know he’s already figured out something’s going on. He’s very perceptive, and well…” she gestured to her pink cheeks. “I’m not exactly subtle.”

“You’re perfect,” Luka smiled as they paused outside of her door. “Maybe if he’s willing, we could take him to a movie or something? Something he likes to do? And if that goes well, Jagged Stone’s going to be in town in a couple weeks, I can get tickets. He doesn’t do too many shows anymore, maybe Louis would like to see his mom’s oldest client in action while there’s still the chance.” He winked, and Marinette laughed. “Ask him about it. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable or push my company on him. If he’s not ready to spend time with me, I won’t be offended.”

Marinette laughed. “Are you ever offended?” she asked, running her thumb over his cheek affectionately. 

“Sometimes,” he chuckled, catching her hand. “I try not to sweat the small stuff, though.” He started to lift her hand to his lips, only to have her pull it away quickly.

“Sorry,” she said, reddening. “It’s just, the kiss on the knuckles, that was Adrien’s thing, I don’t—”

“I understand,” Luka said, and then smiled mischievously. “Wasn’t going for that, actually.” Keeping his eyes on hers, he reached for her hand again, lifted and turned it, and placed a gentle kiss on the little ladybug tattoo. “That okay?” 

Marinette smiled. “Yeah.” She sighed. “Thanks for putting up with all my hang-ups. I don’t think many guys would be as patient as you, and...well, I’m grateful.”

Luka leaned forward and laid his forehead against hers. “It’s not like I don’t have my own baggage. Everybody does. Besides, you’re worth it, Marinette. Any guy that wouldn’t wait for you is an idiot. You’re an amazing person, there’s _nothing_ wrong with you, and you’re so worth it.” 

“Um,” Marinette said softly, moving away just enough to be able to see him clearly as she looked up from beneath her lashes. “You are too. You know that, right?” 

That caught him off guard, and he blinked at her for a moment. Marinette brought one hand up and laid it a little tentatively against his cheek. Luka leaned into it as she spoke. “I can, um...w-well you’ve obviously been going through a lot too. And I don’t really know how...I don’t want to promise anything I can’t keep but…” She sighed. “I’m not as good at this as you are. I’m not, I don’t want...ugh…” She broke off and bit her lip. 

“Take your time,” Luka said, putting his hand over hers. “I want to understand.” 

“I just mean...even though I joke about how annoyingly composed you are...that you’re allowed to not be perfect. Those moments, when you miss your mom, you don’t have to apologize to me for that.” She swallowed, and her voice was a little thick when she continued. “I don’t know if I can be what you need,” she said in a rush. “But you shouldn’t be sorry for needing it. Not at all.” 

Luka let that sink in a moment, and then smiled softly. “Thank you for that,” he told her. “Honestly, that’s enough. If you can just let me work through it as long as it takes, then that’s enough.” 

“I can do that much,” Marinette smiled, and it only trembled a little. 

He angled his face slightly in invitation, and she moved to meet him in one last, tender kiss. “Good night, beautiful dreamer. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Good night, Luka,” Marinette said, adorably shy as she looked up at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never had to not use a song before because it was TOO perfect, but this time I just decided quoting any of the lyrics would be so on the nose as to be almost comical. So, I'll just leave this here, the song Marinette and Luka were listening to on their walk: [Return to Love](https://youtu.be/gB-Yxy5BTGQ).


	5. Reality Check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies and explanations in the end notes. tldr; I realized midstream that I skipped over stuff I really needed to deal with, and had to push everything I'd written into the next chapter and restart this one from scratch. To avoid such a long delay in the future, I'm planning on another long (hopefully less long but we'll see) delay, while I flesh out the remaining chapters enough that I can post them closer together and not go months between updates. 
> 
> One more note: I've gotten a lot, or at least I feel like I've gotten a lot, of questions wanting to know about the divorce or commenting on how one-sided it seems. I don't want to spoil anything, but while there will eventually be a conversation revealing more about it, there's not going to be a big bomb drop. Nobody cheated, nobody lied, nobody did anything irredeemably horrible to anyone else. People are complicated, feelings are complicated, relationships are complicated, families are complicated, and sometimes the people involved don't agree on the best thing to do about it. I really recommend you just wait until the end and see where it goes. We'll get there, your questions will get answered, but just try to enjoy the ride until then.

He couldn’t have asked for a better beginning. Even the fifty-three texts from Rose he had to answer when he got home couldn’t dim the smile on his face. 

Luka spent the next few days in a glow of quiet contentment, polishing his new song and texting occasionally with Marinette. She was incredibly busy during work hours, but they spoke a little bit each evening. 

Happy as he was, though, he still felt...heavy. It made him think about what Juleka had said and he began to wonder if there was more to what he was feeling than grief over his mother.

Luka could have texted but he called just for the comfort of hearing her voice and the everyday sounds of her life in the background. “Hey, Jules,” Luka said, smiling at the sound of Angie’s distant coos and Rose’s baby talk. “Can you text me Dr. Thorpe’s number? I think the one I have is out of date.”

“Yeah, sure,” Juleka replied, surprised. “Is...is everything okay? I thought...your date went okay, right? You told Rose it was good.”

She would have mocked him mercilessly if she could see the grin that broke over his face. “It went amazing,” he told her. “It’s just...I was thinking about what you said, about how I’ve been lately, and maybe there’s...maybe there’s more to how I’ve been feeling than just losing Mom, you know? You know the medication never worked for me like it did for you, but it’s been a few years. I thought maybe I could just check in with the doc and see if there’s anything new I could try. Obviously just the meditation and exercise isn’t cutting it anymore, so…can’t hurt to ask, right?” 

“Yeah...yeah, I get it. I think that’s a good call.” He heard her sigh of relief and winced slightly. “You’re still going to the support group?”

“Not as regularly, lately, but yeah, I go when I need to,” Luka told her, tapping one finger on his leg restlessly. “Hey...thanks for everything. I know I’ve made things really hard for you when they were already difficult, so...thanks for being there.” 

“Just returning the favor,” Juleka mumbled. 

“That’s not one I ever wanted paid back,” he sighed. 

“Well…” Juleka fell silent for a moment, and Luka waited for her to put her thoughts together. “Well. It’s not over yet, but you’re working on it so...it’s okay. I’m okay. I can handle it.”

“It’d be okay if you couldn’t,” Luka reminded her. “I don’t ever want to be—”

“Shut up,” Juleka bit out harshly. “Just shut up, Luka. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She sighed heavily. 

"Okay,” Luka said gently. “Okay, Jules. That’s all I needed anyway. I love you, okay?” 

“Sap,” she muttered, and then, “So the date went well?”

Luka let his head fall back and grinned at the ceiling. “The date went great. Amazing. We’re supposed to go out again soon.” He hesitated. “I was thinking,” he said slowly, “About maybe taking her to The Highlander.” 

“The Highlander? You haven’t been there in months,” Juleka said, and Luka could hear she was frowning. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Especially for a second date.”

“No,” Luka admitted, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. “You think it’s too soon?”

“I think maybe you should go by yourself—wait, not by yourself. I think you and I should go first. See how you handle it. It didn’t go so well last time, Luka. And you haven’t been there in ages, you know people are going to stop to talk and they’re going to want to know how you are and...it just might be hard.”

Luka pressed his lips together and sighed through his nose. “Yeah. You’re right. Maybe a little bit later.” 

“I just don’t want you to take on more than you can handle,” Juleka said, and he could hear Rose’s worried voice asking indistinct questions in the background. “Or rushing things too much and getting hurt. It might be just a quirky little Scottish pub to her but that doesn’t change what it is to us. It’s not fair to take her there like it’s just another theme bar.”

“Right,” Luka sighed. “Okay, I’m convinced. I’ll think of something else. You know I kind of hate movie dates.”

“That’s because you’re intense and nosy,” Juleka told him bluntly. “Movie dates are good, they give you something to talk about besides prying out her darkest secrets or spilling all of yours.” 

Luka rolled his eyes. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I always do,” Juleka snorted. “Someone has to keep you from getting all up in your head and being an idiot.”

“Yeah, thanks so much for that,” he grumbled, but he was smiling. 

“Luka…”

“Yeah?”

There came another gusty sigh. “I love you too.” 

Then she hung up on him. Luka rolled his eyes, but smiled a moment later when his phone dinged as her text with the number came through.

* * *

Luka’s good mood lasted through the week, right until the moment he opened his door to a slightly pale Louis and a stone-faced Adrien. Luka pursed his lips for a moment. Adrien didn’t say anything until Luka sent Louis into the studio with instructions to start his warmups. The room was mostly soundproof with the door closed. Luka made sure it was shut and then went back to the hall where Adrien was still standing, his expression still stiff but murder in his eyes.

“Enjoy your date?” Adrien growled. 

Luka folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the wall. “I did. I’m hoping to take her out again sometime soon.” 

Adrien’s face twisted. “Did you fuck my wife, Couffaine?” 

Luka sighed through his nose, lips tight. “I did not sleep with your _ex_ -wife, no,” he said slowly, looking Adrien in the eye. “I took her out, I did my best to charm the hell out of her, and I kissed her.” He straightened up off the wall and faced Adrien. “Not that it’s actually any of your business what we do together.” 

“If it gets out—”

“I don’t give a shit, Adrien,” Luka said sharply, leveling a glare at his old friend. “I don’t care about your reputation, I never have. Isn’t that why your father told you to stay away from me in the first place?”

Adrien reared back a little. “That—”

“Forget it,” Luka cut him off, holding up a hand. “Listen, I don’t hold your father against you. Not the things he said and did, and not the things he made you do. I know that none of that was your fault. But what you do and say here and now, Adrien, that’s on you, so don’t talk to me about making Marinette dance to your tune to save _your_ reputation, or this conversation is gonna go downhill real fast. She’s single. She’s her own woman. She can date who she wants. If that’s me—” Luka shrugged. “I couldn’t care less what your investors think about it.”

“You absolute bastard.” Adrien scowled when Luka didn’t react. “How the hell can you stand there and act so calm?”

“Because I know your feelings don’t actually have anything to do with me,” Luka said softly. “You feel angry and hurt and betrayed, just like you have for the last, what, year and a half? Almost two, now, right? But deep down I don’t think you’re petty enough to want Marinette to be miserable, or to resent me for making her happy. If that’s even something she wants, by the way, which is by no means certain. It was only one date.” 

“I can’t believe you,” Adrien burst out, his hands making an abortive gesture at his sides. “You knew her for what, five minutes?”

“Don’t give me that,” Luka snapped, his arms unfolding as he gave Adrien a hard look. “I know exactly how long it took for you to find somebody else after the divorce was final, the whole world does.”

Adrien winced. “That was a mistake,” he muttered. “I was hurt, I was angry, she was the one person I thought would never leave and I just wanted—” he broke off and took a shuddering breath. 

Luka softened a little, reminding himself that this was his friend. “Look,” he sighed. “I know you’ve gone through a lot and we do stupid things when it comes to the people we love. I get it. I know that the divorce wasn’t what you wanted, I get that too. But you don’t get to decide when she’s allowed to move on. Or to whom.” He waited for a moment but Adrien said nothing, and he went on. “Look. For what it’s worth, I give you my word, I will treat her right. I’ll be careful with her and I’ll be careful with Louis. I’m trying to be as careful as I can with you, I really am.” 

“I know,” Adrien ground out. “I think it just makes it worse. I really want to hate you.”

“I know. If you don’t want to talk to me for a few weeks—or longer—I totally get it. I can start doing written reports over email for Louis. You can just drop him off and pick him up and leave without saying a word to me if you want. I mean, you can pull him out if you want to, but I don’t think either of us really wants that. He’s doing really well so far.” Luka hesitated. “I don’t want to cause him problems though so if he’s no longer comfortable with me, I’d understand.” 

Adrien took a deep breath. “We’ll see,” he said grudgingly. “I just don’t know right now. I’m not sure he’d tell us if he was uncomfortable, to be honest, and I don’t...well. Like I said, we’ll see. You’ll probably see it before either of us if he’s got a problem with you. For now, just go on, he’s waiting for you, and I really need to get out of here. I’m still mad as hell.”

Luka nodded. “Later, Adrien.”

“Asshole,” Adrien muttered as he left.

When he entered the studio, Luka wasn’t surprised to see Louis sitting tense on the piano bench, not playing. He went over and leaned against the piano instead of sitting next to him as he normally would. “Hey,” Luka smiled. “Your mom talk to you?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, staring at the keys. 

“You want to talk about it, or are you not ready yet?”

Louis glanced up at him in surprise, then seemed to think about it. “I don’t think I want to,” he said after a moment. 

“Okay. Can I sit?” Louis hesitated, and Luka added, “Or do you just want to play your feelings for a minute?” It had become part of their routine, whenever Louis seemed to need it. He still fumbled a lot, not quite comfortable with improvising, but the emotions were there and came across and that was what mattered. 

Louis nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I need that.” 

“Can I stay, or would you rather I let you get it out on your own?” 

Louis seemed to think again, and Luka was glad. At least the boy wasn’t just rejecting him outright. “You can...you can stay, I think. Maybe it’ll be easier than talking.” 

“Okay. Thanks for that. If you change your mind, let me know and I’ll go. I know this is all—” Luka sighed. “Confusing, and frustrating and maybe even hurtful. It’s okay. You just...feel what you need to feel, and play what you need to play, okay? We don’t have to talk until you’re ready, and if that’s not today, that’s okay too. There’s no rush. We can set our own pace with this.”

Louis nodded, and raised his hands over the keys. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than Luka. “Okay.”

Luka leaned back against the piano, folded his arms, and closed his eyes, tuning into the music and the boy who made it. It was all the things he’d expected. Confused, angry, hurt, sad. Luka kept his expression neutral and resisted the urge to sigh. He reminded himself that he’d known it wouldn’t be easy. There wasn’t anything he could say to make this better. 

He just had to be patient. This might have been easier if they hadn’t known each other already; he could have dated Marinette for a while until they were sure they had something serious and then met Louis. At least Luka hadn’t had to deal with every person his mother dated; she only asked him to meet the ones that mattered (though in the end, it turned out none of them had mattered _that_ much). 

But Louis was a smart kid, he already knew something was up, and when in doubt Luka tended to err on the side of openness. In Luka’s experience, secrets almost always hurt worse. 

As he listened to Louis’ song, he was reminded of his conversation with Nicoline and the recorded performance he’d listened to when he got home. Luka had talked to Louis about performing in the recital and hadn’t gotten much more than weary acceptance. Apparently Louis was accustomed to being expected to perform whether he wanted to or not, which told Luka that, much like the younger Adrien, Louis had never performed a piece he was emotionally invested in. Luka hated that, and he didn’t want to ask Louis to perform another soulless piece, even if Louis technically picked it himself.

An idea was forming in his mind, but Luka was going to have to think carefully about it, about whether it was in Louis’ best interests or whether he was letting his own feelings, both old and new, color his judgement. He took a slow, thoughtful breath, tapping his fingers against his arm as he considered.

“Luka?” 

Luka jumped slightly, and realized Louis had stopped playing and was looking at him. “Hey, sorry, man, I had a thought and I zoned out there for a second. I got the gist, though.” He motioned towards the piano bench. “Can I sit now?”

Louis slid over immediately, but Luka didn’t move until he said, quietly. “Yes. Go ahead.” 

“Listen,” he said, “I said we don’t have to talk about anything until you’re ready and I mean that. I just want you to know that nothing that happens in this room changes. Here, it’s about the music and about helping you get to a good place with it. I know maybe it looked like I was off in my own world a bit for a second there, but it’s not because I wasn’t paying attention to you. What I was thinking about just now, that was about the music too. I just need to think about it a little more before we can talk about it, but I promise we will, okay?”

Louis nodded slowly. 

“Do you want to talk about this thing with me and your mom?” Luka asked, stroking his own fingers along the keys for a moment, and then beginning to play absently as he spoke. “Or do you want to wait a little longer? Or maybe do it somewhere that’s not here?”

“I don’t know what to say,” Louis mumbled. “It’s not like it matters what I think.” 

“Of course it does,” Luka said, pausing for a moment to look at him. “What you think always matters, Louis, and you deserve to be heard. So if you have something to say, you tell me so. I can’t say how much it’ll change anything, but I will always hear you and consider what you have to say, okay?”

“Yes,” Louis said after a moment. “That’s what Maman said, too.”

Luka put his hands back on the keys and began to play the turbulent waves of his own emotions, though it didn’t come as naturally to him on the piano as the guitar. “I can’t say I know exactly how you feel, because we’re two different people in different circumstances. But my parents split up when I was little, a few years younger than you, and I know how it felt when other guys started coming around my mom. So I’m not totally clueless here.” He glanced at Louis, and then went on. “I like your mom a lot, and she seems to like me pretty well so far, and it’s going to take a while to find out exactly what that means for all of us. Your mom and I, we have a lot to figure out and we’re going to take our time doing that. That’s what dating is for, you know? Getting to know each other and figuring out whether you can be good together and you want the same things out of life and relationships and whatever, and that takes time. So not a lot’s going to change overnight, okay?”

Louis nodded slowly. “That’s what she told me.” 

“Good,” Luka smiled slightly. “So that part’s between me and her and that’s stuff nobody can figure out but us. You and your mom are a package deal, though, so that means, you and I have stuff that nobody else can figure out either. That’s the good news, though, that you and I get to decide what that means, no one else. I mean, your mom and dad, they’re still your mom and dad and they’re going to make the rules for a while, and you and I, we get to just hang out and get to know each other. And if it turns out we can’t stand each other, well, obviously that’s a problem that we’re all going to have to deal with. But, so far, I think you’re a pretty cool kid, Louis.”

Louis looked up at him sharply, eyebrows soaring, breaking that polite mask into a look of incredulous doubt. “You think I’m cool,” he said in a deadpan voice. 

Luka laughed, actually pleased to see a normal kid expression on Louis’ face. “Why is that a surprise?”

“ _Nobody_ thinks I’m cool,” Louis drawled, like Luka was completely dense. “Not sure how you didn’t notice, but I’m a _nerd_ , Luka.” 

Luka was struggling not to completely lose it. “Nerds can be cool,” he managed to say through the suppressed laughter threatening to strangle him. “So what if you’re a nerd? What’s wrong with being passionate about knowledge?” 

“But I’m—” Louis looked down at himself, at his clothes, Luka realized, and made a face. 

“Sophisticated?” Luka grinned. 

Louis gave him an exasperated look. “I look like I tripped and fell off a catalogue page.”

Luka tried not to laugh. “So what?” 

“So I am _not_ cool,” Louis pouted, folding his arms. “I’ll _never_ be cool.” 

“Louis,” Luka chuckled, taking his hands off the keys and turning slightly to face the boy. “The kind of cool I’m talking about isn’t about how you dress or what your hobbies are or what instrument you play.” He nodded at the piano. “It’s about being interesting and fun to be around and putting out good energy to the people around you, and you’ve got all of that. You want me to pick another word, I will, but what you call it isn’t going to change anything.” Luka cocked his head. “Do you _want_ to be different from the way you are?”

“Well…” Louis looked thoughtful, his hand going up to rub the back of his neck in a gesture that Luka immediately recognized. “No? Or maybe...maybe sometimes. Maybe some things. I like most of it, fencing and music and...and school—” He darted a quick look at Luka.

“Nothing wrong with being good at and enjoying all those things,” Luka nodded. “But there’s other things you’d like to try?” Luka suggested. “Including maybe changing up your look?” 

Louis nodded.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Luka said, again having trouble keeping a straight face. “Trying out things is part of growing up. And if you don’t like these supposedly cool things, that doesn’t make you uncool. Uncool is going with things you don’t really like just because you’re trying to fit some image people made up.” He paused for a second, suddenly feeling both an intense sense of deja vu and like he was on dangerous ground, because this time he wasn’t a kid talking to his friend, he was an adult, an authority, talking to a child who wasn’t his own. The last thing he wanted was to upset either of Louis’ parents by encouraging him in the little kid version of a Couffaine-style rebellion, even if he felt like the kid deserved to be a kid a bit more. “If there’s something like that you want to do or try, just tell your parents so,” he said. “Or your therapist, if you don’t feel comfortable going to them right away, and she’ll help you figure out how to ask. It’s her job to help you work through hard stuff like that, right?”

Louis wrinkled his nose slightly. “I can’t tell my mom I want to change the way I dress, she’d be so upset. All the clothes I wear are _her_ clothes.”

“You think so?” Luka asked, slightly surprised, his eyebrows raising. “You think your mom would rather you wear clothes you don’t like and don’t feel good in just to make her comfortable, instead of being honest with her and letting her help you find something you like better?” 

Louis opened his mouth and then shut it again. 

“It’s okay to want things and it’s okay to ask for the things you want,” Luka told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You might not always get them but your parents love you and I know they’ll at least talk about them with you. I might not know your mom as well as you do, but I feel pretty confident she wouldn’t want you to stay silent about something that’s bothering you just to keep from upsetting her. I might be way off base but I bet helping you figure out a look you actually like would be a fun challenge for her.” He shrugged. “Ask her and see. The worst she can say is no, right?” 

“Yeah...maybe…” Louis looked away, reaching for the keys again. He played a simple exercise, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Hey,” Luka said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Are we cool? For now, at least?”

Louis took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah. For now.” 

“Fair enough,” Luka smiled, letting his hand fall away. “So, we still have a little time left before your dad comes back, let’s get back to the music, shall we? And from now on, anytime you want to talk to me about any of that other stuff, you can call or text. We won’t talk about it again during lessons. I meant what I said. This time is for you and the music and everything else stays outside the door, okay?” 

“Okay,” Louis gave a little smile. 

Luka felt a little encouraged by the talk, and a little relieved that once it was out of the way, they’d been able to fall back into their usual routine for lessons. Guilt descended on him though when Adrien returned to pick Louis up. Both men were nothing less than cordial in front of Louis, but the easy familiarity they’d always had was gone, and Luka was sure Louis sensed the tension between them no matter how the two adults tried to hide it. 

Luka sank back on his couch when they were gone, letting his head fall back against the back. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there just staring at the ceiling, but the sun was down when he finally got up.

* * *

If he’d had any second thoughts over the next few days, his second date with Marinette renewed his resolve. He took Juleka’s advice and they went to a movie, something not too intense that they could laugh and poke fun at afterwards. Marinette seemed a little more relaxed, and he teased her about her choice of snack foods and she teased him for the way he kept humming the soundtrack over and over. 

If the kisses they shared were softer and maybe a little shyer than before, they were just as sweet, and Luka couldn’t find it in him to be disappointed. They had maybe gone a bit fast for a first date, anyway. If she wanted to slow down a bit, that was fair. He came home smiling again, a little lightness in his heart that couldn’t be crowded out by all his other worries. 

Luka was humming to himself the next day as he let himself into the small cafe and waved to the owner before throwing himself down at a table by the windows and waiting for the company he expected, but who was, as usual, late.

Nicoline Sardou was a tall, angular woman with a commanding presence almost as powerful as her voice. It served her well on stage and in crowds, but she didn’t seem to know how to turn it off (or she chose not to), and being in a small space with her tended to feel overwhelming. She walked into the small cafe like the diva she was, complete with oversized sunglasses and giant, flashing chandelier earrings, and scanned the tables for him. 

Luka waved to get her attention. He saw her chin jerk when she spotted him and chuckled as he watched people practically leap out of her way as she approached. Luka had grown up with Anarka Couffaine, who’d had a different energy but just as much force behind it, and Juleka, who’d had a runway walk so fierce it made everyone in the front rows lean back every time she was on the catwalk, so he wasn’t phased by the aura of mystique she projected, and he always found it mildly entertaining to see other people react to her. 

Besides, he’d known Nicoline since university and it was hard to be intimidated by a woman he’d taken to the emergency room for a fractured coxis when she’d landed on her ass after a botched kegstand. 

“Good to see you, Nic,” he said, standing to greet her. They exchanged a bise and Nicoline squeezed his arm briefly before they sat back down.

“It’s been ages since I saw you last,” she said as they waited for the food they’d ordered. “You’ve barely even been answering my texts.”

Luka sighed and tried to smile. “I’m really sorry about that. I’m trying to be better.”

“You look better,” Nicoline said, tilting her head slightly. “Not so...sleepy. Are you resting better?”

“Sometimes,” Luka shrugged, but he didn’t really want to talk about it just then, even with someone he’d known as long as Nic. “So, Spring Recital,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “I know I haven’t been as engaged as I should and I’m sorry. Can you bring me up to speed on where we’re at?”

“Right,” Nicoline said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a folder, setting things out on the table between them. “I’ve reserved our usual venue and my students have chosen their pieces. Here’s the ones I need backup for.” She slid a list across the table, and then tapped one painted nail on a name. “This is the one I wanted to talk to you about. She’s really good, Luka, probably one of my favorite students I’ve ever taught. I want her to do the showcase piece, but if you don’t have any students who can match up to her, I’d rather use canned music.” 

Luka gave a thoughtful hum, looking at the name and the piece listed next to it. “Do you have—” Nicoline was pushing a CD across the table to him before he even finished speaking. Luka quirked an eyebrow at the choice of medium but picked it up and set it next to him on the table. 

“She’s track six,” Nicoline told him. “You’ll know her when you hear her. I was thinking maybe piano and guitar? Maybe drums if you can keep them from being too heavy.

Luka nodded. “I’ll listen to her and see who I’ve got that matches her style. I’m not going to pressure anyone into it though, Nicoline, you know I don’t believe in that.”

Nicoline waved that away; it was an old argument. Their teaching styles were as different as their personalities, and when they’d first gotten the idea to have Nicoline’s vocal students pair with Luka’s instrumentalists and collaborate on a few recital pieces, it had seemed almost crazy. Luka had always managed to match up groups that worked, though, and he was of the opinion that the students worked a little harder when someone else was counting on them. 

“Just let me know once you’ve got an arrangement put together,” Nic said, “And we can work out a rehearsal schedule.” 

“Who else is on board for the recital?” Luka asked, and they spent the rest of the lunch gossiping about their colleagues. Luka was sadly out of date on the news and he cringed a little as Nicoline related the latest drama to him. He should definitely touch base with some people.

“You want to come home with me?” Nicoline asked as she stirred her drink. “You look better but still like you could stand to lose a little tension.” She offered him a little smile. “And I missed you.” 

Luka shook his head and he could feel his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile too broadly. “I’m actually seeing somebody at the moment.”

“Oooh,” Nicoline raised her eyebrows, a sly grin of her own spreading over her face. “Is it serious?”

“It’s new,” Luka said, avoiding her gaze as he poked at his food, still smiling. “But yeah, it’s pretty serious. For me, anyway. It’s...things are...well—” He bit his lip to stop the fumbling, and shrugged just slightly. “She’s got baggage. And it’s not like I’m exactly rock steady myself right now. So...I think it’s gonna go slow....” He caught Nicoline’s look and grinned sheepishly. “Slow-ish,” he amended. “But…” That smile was trying to break through again. “But I think it’ll be worth it.” 

“Worth it, like, _the one_ worth it?”

Luka made a noncommittal noise but he still couldn’t look her in the face.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Nicoline said, eyes narrowed, and he felt all the force of her personality on him in that moment. “Spill.” 

“Her son is one of my students,” Luka admitted, leaning his chin on his fist.

It was almost comical, how fast Nic’s eyes flew open. She leaned forward slightly. “You’re dating a client?”

“Technically, no,” Luka mumbled. “Technically, her ex-husband is my client.” 

Nicoline didn’t answer for a moment and he flicked his eyes up at her.

“Luka,” Nicoline sighed, shaking her head. “You never do things the simple way.” 

“Never,” he agreed, sitting up straight. “It’s a Couffaine thing.”

Nicoline checked the time on her phone. “I’ve got five minutes. Spill.”

Luka snorted, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “No.” He grinned to himself as he counted out the money, watching Nicoline’s mouth drop open in surprise and outrage, and then he stood up and dropped his cash on the table. “See you later, Nic. I’ll be in touch about the group.” He waved the CD at her and turned away, chuckling to himself as he left the café.

* * *

A week later, Luka was looking forward to his third date with Marinette with the same excitement and anticipation fizzing in his veins, but he knew something was wrong as soon as they met up. Marinette was tense, and she couldn’t seem to look at him for very long—but she couldn’t seem to stop looking at him, either. She kept shooting him quick, darting glances that skittered away before he could meet them. He reached for her hand and she let him take it, but her grip in return was weak and he thought maybe she was shaking. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked, when there was a lull in the sidewalk traffic that gave them a quiet moment.

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled up at him, and her hold on his hand got a little tighter. “It’s good.” 

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly as her gaze shifted away again. “Marinette,” he said, letting go of her hand to put his on her shoulder. “Please.” 

“It’s nothing, really, just something I wanted to talk about, but it can wait until we’re settled somewhere. It’s not, um...nothing earth shattering, I promise. I think.”

That was less reassuring than she had probably intended, but Luka did his best to cover his concern until they got to the restaurant they had agreed on. 

They ordered food and tried to chat, but Marinette was distracted and Luka was worried, and they couldn’t seem to keep a topic going. 

“Marinette,” Luka sighed finally, pushing his plate aside to take her hand. “Please just tell me what’s on your mind? Let’s just...deal with whatever it is, okay?” 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said quickly, her fingers curling tight around his. “I didn’t want to ruin everything, and now I _am_ and—”

“Marinette,” Luka interrupted, “Please. Just tell me.” 

She winced a little at his tone, and he regretted it, but the flightier she acted the more he began to fear the worst. “I just,” she hesitated, and Luka’s worry increased. “I guess I just wanted to know if we’re, um, exclusive? Or are we...not _allowed_ but...I mean are we…” 

Okay, he told himself, that...wasn’t as bad as it _could_ have been. “Do you want to be?” Luka asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. 

“Well I—” Marinette began, and then she looked down, fiddling with her napkin. “It’s just, someone else asked me out, and I realized I didn’t know, um, where you stood on us dating other people besides each other.” She glanced up at him and away, and Luka picked up his drink to give himself something to do while he tried to gather the wits her simple question had just scattered to the wind.

“Well,” he said slowly as he set his glass down. “We’ve only seen each other a few times. I think things are going really well and I hope that will continue, but if you want to see other people too, I wouldn’t feel right telling you not to.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Honestly, it pains me to say this, you probably should, Marinette, if you want to even a little bit. It might be good for you. I don’t want you to have any doubts or regrets.”

“I just can’t help but think...I never really dated anyone but Adrien before, and…” 

“Of course,” Luka nodded, and took her hand. “That makes total sense. So if you want to try going out with some other people, then I’m not going to stand in the way of that. I won’t say I really _like_ it, but I understand.” He gave her a lopsided smile that he hoped didn’t betray him too badly and gave her a quick wink. “I’ll just have to step up my game, that’s all.” 

She squeaked and reached quickly for her water glass, and Luka chuckled in spite of himself. 

He tried to act as normal as he could for the rest of the date, but he knew he was quieter than he had been. He clung to her hand a little tighter, but kept his distance more than he had before, suddenly unsure of himself in a way he wasn’t really accustomed to. Luka couldn’t help feeling like he’d been misreading something, getting more invested than was justified, and all he could do was hold it together as best he could until he could get home and think. 

Their kiss goodnight was soft and sweet and he lingered over it longer than he probably should have, but it was reserved, too, in a way it hadn’t been before now, at least on his part. 

“Luka, is...are you really, okay with what we talked about?” Marinette asked him, her eyes tight.

Luka sighed. Clearly he hadn’t fooled her at all. “In my head, yeah,” he said, looking down at their fingers tangled together. “I know this is the right thing to do and I genuinely want you to be with me because you want to, and not because you just felt like you couldn’t explore other options. At the same time, I’m really into you and my heart and my gut might be having a harder time with it, that’s all. I’ll deal with it.” 

Marinette’s brow creased slightly and she frowned. “If you’re not really okay with this...I really like you too, Luka, and I don’t want to—” 

Luka smiled faintly. “I want you to be happy, Marinette. When you are ready for something more serious, I don’t want you to have any doubts. Figure out what you need, and do it, okay? Thank you for being honest with me about it.” He lifted her hand and stroked his thumb along the ladybug tattoo. “Just...keep me posted? On where we stand.” He hesitated. “Do you still want to go out again next week?”

“Yes,” Marinette said firmly, squeezing his hand. “Definitely.” She tugged him forward a little, and he stepped closer. “Luka, this doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you. I like this, I like what we have. I like you. A lot. And this is definitely not me liking you less as time goes on.” She blushed, dropping her eyes for just a moment before she looked back up at him. “It’s just, it’s like you said. I don’t want to have any doubts. I had such tunnel vision, with...before, and look how it turned out.” Marinette sighed, her brow creasing slightly. “I feel like that could happen again really easily...with you, so…” She bit her lip, eyes searching his face. “But now I’m scared of ruining what we have. Maybe I shouldn’t—what are you doing?” 

Luka drew her close, hands sliding from her waist to the small of her back as he dipped his head towards her. 

“If I’m going to have some competition, I want to make sure I leave an impression,” he breathed, lips brushing hers. “Is that okay?” 

He felt her lips move but no sound came out. “Marinette?” 

She managed to make a noise of assent and nod slightly, and Luka kissed her softly, once, twice, and then more firmly, tasting her with light brushes of his tongue as he coaxed her lips open. Luka kissed her as thoroughly as he knew how, focused on her reactions, intending to do exactly as he said, but also to fill himself with the taste, the feel of her, the sound of her soft noises in his ears, to burn it into his mind against the day when he might have to give it up. Marinette’s fingers curled into his coat and she whimpered softly. He let her turn her head away to gasp for air but pressed his lips into her jaw, and then her neck, and when she gasped his name it was shaky and breathless in a way that made him shiver, but it also held a note of warning that he couldn’t ignore. Luka nuzzled her neck one more time, breathing her in, and pulled back, placing one more soft kiss on her lips before he straightened. 

“Too much?” he asked quietly. “I’m sorry.” 

Marinette shook her head, her cheeks bright pink. “It was a lot, but...not too much. Not from you.” 

That brought the most genuine smile he’d had all evening to his face. “I should go. I’ll text you about next week?” 

Marinette nodded, and rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight, Luka.”

“Goodnight, Marinette.”

Luka rode the subway home in a haze of confused, upset feelings. When he got home he kicked off his shoes and tossed away his jacket, pulling off his shirt on the way to his bedroom. He fell face down onto the bed, his phone gripped tightly in one hand, the edges of it digging into his palm. 

He raised it up and turned his head enough to peek at the time, and then he buried his face in the mattress again. It was late. Juleka would answer, even if she was sleeping, but he couldn’t do that to her. He took a deep breath and rolled over. He unlocked his phone, thumb hovering over Juleka’s number, and then Nicoline’s. She would be awake, but...he didn’t think Nicoline’s brand of support was what he needed right then. He switched to his music app and turned it on, dialing the volume up as high as it would go before setting the phone in the charging dock on his nightstand. He shimmied out of his pants and under the covers, and then curled up, counting the beats of the music and praying for sleep. 

* * *

It took Luka a few days to get his head together again after the bomb Marinette had dropped on him. He felt stupid, and frustrated, and disappointed (and irrationally angry at Juleka for being right), but he was determined not to let it bring him back down. He wasn’t sure if Marinette had talked to Louis about her intention to date other people. Louis didn’t bring it up at his lesson, so Luka let it lie, figuring it wasn’t his business to mention it if Louis didn’t. 

He felt a little bit better when Marinette called and asked him to go to a concert with her. The musician was a client and had given Marinette tickets, and she thought of him, so if he wasn’t busy, although it wasn’t really his style of music and maybe he wouldn’t be interested, but if he _was_ , she really would rather go with him than anyone else, and— 

Luka was laughing by the time she paused long enough for him to accept her offer, and teased her about implying he was a music snob, and eventually she recovered from her spluttering to tease him back, and by the time Luka hung up the phone he was smiling. She thought of him, she invited him, and that was enough to help him find his resolve, and determine to put truth to what he’d said to her about stepping up his game. 

He focused his mind back on his work, and work found him sitting in a boring little bar in a neighborhood full of high rise office complexes. 

Luka had taken his time with this decision—almost too much time, if he wanted the kids to be ready in time, but he still tapped his fingers nervously on the table while he waited. It wasn’t a particularly ritzy bar, but Luka felt very out of place in this crowd. It wasn’t his normal hour to be out and the place was full of businessmen getting off work for the day.

Luka didn’t actually _have_ to be here. Technically, he could have had this conversation over the phone, or even over email, but he wanted to do it in person. Luka wasn’t sure if he was in for an argument or not but he’d get a better read of the situation face to face. 

He was expecting it to be...awkward, though, after their last conversation. 

“So much for _you don’t have to talk to me for a while_ ,” Adrien grumbled, dropping into the chair across from Luka.

It had been several weeks, but Luka could understand that it probably didn’t seem like long enough to Adrien. “I’ll be quick,” Luka said, leaning his elbows on the table. “Drink? On me.”

“God yes.” Adrien flagged down a server and ordered a drink that made Luka raise his eyebrows slightly. “It’s the end of the work day and I’m not driving,” Adrien defended himself, and Luka shrugged.

“Just not the kind of thing you usually drink,” he commented, voice carefully neutral. 

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while since we got a drink together,” Adrien snorted as the server returned and tapped the glass down in front of him. Luka was mildly amused at the prompt service; Adrien’s _rich guy_ vibe was palpable, apparently. Or maybe he was a regular here, since it was near the office. “Now what do you want?” Adrien demanded, picking up his drink.

“I wanted to ask,” Luka said, curling his fingers in as he realized they were still drumming on the table, “If you’re still on that whole ‘Agrestes are soloists,’ thing your dad was so dead set on.” 

Adrien’s expression didn’t change other than the slight raise of his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because an opportunity has come up for Louis—”

“No,” Adrien interrupted, putting his glass down. “No way. Marinette and I agreed before he was born, no _opportunities_ until—”

“Let me finish,” Luka broke in, raising his hands slightly, and Adrien pressed his lips together. “Sorry,” Luka continued. “I forgot that might be a loaded word for you. Not that kind of opportunity, not a money-making type thing. Just, a chance to play as part of a group in the Spring Concert. I have a colleague looking for a group to back one of her singers. I’ve got a few students in mind and I think Louis would be a good fit for them. But before I even brought it up to him, I wanted to run it by you. I don’t want to get him excited about something you might not approve of.”

“As if you ever cared about anyone’s approval,” Adrien snorted, and Luka shrugged.

“It’s different when you’re working with kids,” Luka pointed out. “I don’t make decisions about what’s right for other people’s children. I’m just his teacher. You're his father.” At Adrien’s sharp look, he added, “That won’t change no matter what happens between me and Marinette. You’ll always be his father.” 

“I know that,” Adrien growled, picking up his drink and hiding behind it. Luka fought the urge to roll his eyes. After a minute, Adrien put the glass down with a little more force than necessary. “I’m not my father,” he said bitterly. 

Luka raised his eyebrows. “I know that,” he echoed.

“Do you?” Adrien sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Does anybody?” 

“Do _you_?” Luka asked, before he could think better of it, and stiffened slightly when Adrien’s eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Look, Adrien, I—” 

“Don’t,” Adrien snapped. “Just don’t, Luka. I know you lost your mom unexpectedly too and all, but don’t try to tell me you understand.” He turned his face away, blinking rapidly as he took a large swallow of his drink. 

“Okay,” Luka said softly, looking at the table and turning his glass absently. “I won’t. I don’t.” He closed his lips on whatever else he wanted to say. _At least you got to bury a body_ , he thought bitterly, but he knew that was unfair. Luka had always had very black and white feelings about Adrien’s relationship with his father, and he was beginning to suspect Marinette did also, but Adrien had never been able to see it that way and had ignored or resented any suggestion that he really didn’t owe his father the kind of loyalty he’d been trained to show. Adrien had spent his whole life waiting for...something. Some kind of catharsis. Some acknowledgement from his father. Some kind of confrontation that would end with a hug and an apology and the snooty rich person equivalent of “you did good son.” 

It was never going to happen, even while Gabriel was alive, but there wasn’t even the remotest hope of it now that he was gone. And now it was all tangled into some vague wish of following the path his father would have wanted like the good son that he was. The good son Gabriel had never acknowledged him to be. 

It was sad. It was also, Luka couldn’t help feeling, raised to independence and free will as he had been, a little pathetic.

It was maybe a little easy for Luka to say, though, just like it was easy for Adrien to feel like Luka’s pain was less because Luka had been close to his mother and always knew where he stood with her. 

Luka shoved aside uncharitable thoughts about how little difference there was in Gabriel’s presence in Adrien’s life whether he was dead or alive, and how much one could possibly miss someone who had never bothered to be there in the first place, and wrenched his mind back to the issue at hand. 

“Look,” he sighed, “If you’re not completely opposed to the idea, just think about it and call me before Louis’ next lesson. I think it would be good for him to play with other kids, to have a chance to interpret a piece of music into something he’s excited about playing and performing, start seeing music as a way to connect with people, but like I said, I’m not even going to bring it up if it’s not something you’re going to be on board with.” 

Adrien looked at him with an expression Luka couldn’t quite parse. “Did you ask Marinette?” 

Luka shook his head. Adrien might not believe it but Luka had no desire to cause problems between the two of them. He wasn’t sure how Adrien would react to the proposition, but he had a pretty good idea how _Marinette_ would react if she found out Adrien had kept Louis from doing something because Gabriel Agreste wouldn’t have liked it. Luka had no interest in provoking that fight—at least not right now. 

Adrien looked away and said nothing for a long moment. “I heard,” he said finally, still not looking at Luka, “I heard Marinette’s going out with one of the accounting consultants this weekend.” He glanced at Luka. “Office gossip, you know. And Nino let slip that she was seeing someone else last week.” 

Luka just looked back at him, careful to show no reaction. Whoever else she was seeing, Marinette was still making time to go out with him pretty consistently, but that wasn’t really Adrien’s business. Just like it was none of Luka’s business, for the moment, who she was seeing besides him. He half expected Adrien to make some kind of crack at his expense, but Adrien just shook his head, getting up from the table. 

“If Louis wants to do it that’s fine with me,” he muttered, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. “I’m not my father, and Louis isn’t me. And…” He hesitated, pulling some money out of his wallet and dropping it on the table. “I brought him to you for a reason,” he said finally. “If you think it would be good for him then I trust your judgement. He’ll have plenty of chances for solos in the future, I’m sure,” he added, almost to himself.

Luka rolled his eyes, though he had no doubt Adrien was right. He kept his mouth shut, though, as Adrien made his way out of the bar. Luka paid the tab and left, leaving Adrien’s money on the table. 

When he got home, he sat down at his table and took out his phone. He stared at it for a moment, and then dialed Marinette’s number. He half expected voicemail, but just before it would have clicked over, the call went active, and there was a sudden thud and crash and “Oh shit!”

Luka was laughing when Marinette finally came on the line with a breathless, “Hi Luka!” that made his heart flutter.

“Hi Marinette,” he chuckled. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, still panting. “Just, um, I almost didn’t hear it, and then I tripped, and when I went to grab it I knocked it off my work table, and—um, anyway you called so…” 

“I did,” Luka smiled, “And I would have called back. You didn’t have to half kill yourself to get to the phone.” 

“Well, I...it might have been important!” He could almost imagine the way she blushed and pouted as she said it. 

“Is this an okay time?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair and trying to collect his thoughts. “I just wanted to run something by you about Louis.” 

“Oh,” Marinette said, and Luka might have imagined it but he thought she sounded disappointed. “Okay. Y-yeah, now’s fine. What’s going on?”

Luka explained, unsurprised when Marinette asked quite a few more questions than Adrien. 

“Well, it sounds fine to me,” Marinette said at last. “I’m not a musician and you’re his teacher, so if you think he’s up to it and that it will help him, I’m happy for him to play with the group.” She hesitated. “I’m not sure how Adrien will feel about it though.” 

“I already talked to Adrien,” Luka admitted. “I know that was kind of a thing with his dad—it’s why he pulled him out of the band, or so he said at the time, so I wanted to get a read on where Adrien stood. He said he was okay with it as long as Louis wanted to do it.” 

“Oh,” Marinette sighed. “That’s a relief. I mean, he loves Louis and he always has Louis’ best wishes at heart, but—” She cut off and sighed. 

“But he was brainwashed for twenty-five years by his asshole father and sometimes his sense of reality is warped by his incomprehensible loyalty to the man’s memory?” Luka suggested sardonically. 

“At least someone can say it,” Marinette laughed, sounding a little guilty as she did. “But...yeah, basically. I’m glad to hear he didn’t put up a fuss. Thanks for, um...thanks for talking to him about it. I could have, but—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Luka shrugged. “It’s my job. Okay, if both of you are on board then I’ll talk to Louis about it at our next lesson.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Marinette agreed, and a slightly awkward pause ensued. Luka was opening his mouth to tell her goodbye when she suddenly said in a rush, “So, um...how was your day?” 

Luka blinked, and then smiled, tracing the pattern of the wood grain on his table with his finger. “It wasn’t bad. I have a kid that’s been struggling with a piece and she really made a breakthrough today, and that’s always nice. How was yours? Or should I say, how _is_ yours, are you still at work?”

“Yes and no,” Marinette replied, and there was some noise on the other end of the line, like she was moving things around. “I’m not _at_ work, but I’m working in my home office. Louis is with Adrien tonight, you know, so I thought I’d get some work done, because I’m a little behind after all the chaos earlier.”

“Rough day up until now, huh?” 

“Crazy,” Marinette groaned. “You wouldn’t _believe_ what I had to deal with this morning…” 

Luka smiled, settling back in his chair as Marinette began to rant in extremely entertaining terms about some mix up that had happened on the production floor that day. It reminded him of something that had happened on the boat years ago, and they chatted back and forth until Marinette yawned and Luka suddenly realized he was _starving_. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Marinette gasped. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long—I didn’t realize it was so late.” 

“Me neither,” Luka chuckled. “But I don’t mind.” 

“You’re so easy to talk to,” Marinette sighed. “I wish…”

“You wish what?” Luka asked, when she didn’t continue, his pulse picking up a little.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, and Luka suspected from the tone of her voice that she was blushing. “Never mind.”

“Hey, do you maybe want to grab coffee tomorrow?” Luka asked on impulse. “I’ve got students in the afternoon, but in the morning—” 

“I can’t,” Marinette nearly whined, and Luka bit down on a smile that wanted to become a laugh. “I’d really love to, but I can’t. I have um—plans already. For brunch.” She sighed like she was genuinely disappointed. 

“Okay,” he said, smile fading slightly. “Some other time then.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said unhappily. “Some other time. Soon.” 

“Soon, for sure,” Luka said quickly, the smile coming back a bit. “Goodnight, Marinette.” 

“Goodnight, Luka,” Marinette sighed, and though he preferred hearing her happy, it gave him a little flutter that she seemed so reluctant to say it. 

* * *

“Hey, man,” Luka grinned, crouching down to get a better look at Louis. “Spiderman, I like it.” He indicated the shirt under Louis’ button-down. Instead of his usual green Gabriel brand t-shirt, he sported black t-shirt with a red Spiderman emblem on his chest. Louis grinned broadly and shrugged, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Really?” he asked shyly. 

“Yeah,” Luka nodded. “That’s from the new movie, right? The animated one?”

“Yeah,” Louis lit up. “It’s sooooo good!” He paused. “It’s not exactly new, though. It’s been out on Blu-Ray for a while already.” 

“Man, I’m so out of touch,” Luka sighed with a lopsided smile. “The soundtrack is killer, I just never made the time to actually watch the movie. I didn’t realize it had been so long.” He leaned forward a little. “Your mom didn’t give you too much grief right? Do I need to talk to her?” He glanced up over Louis’ shoulder and winked at Marinette.

“Nah, my mom’s the _best_ ,” Louis beamed, looking back at her. Marinette blushed, and Luka coughed to cover a laugh. 

“All right, go on back,” Luka told Louis, squeezing his shoulder as he stood up. “Warm up while we wait, the others should be here soon.” 

“Okay!” Louis went around him, heading for the music room. 

Luka looked back at Marinette, who was shaking her head at him. 

“Charmer,” she accused, and Luka grinned, spreading his hands. 

“I’m only charming because I’m honest.” 

“And cute,” Marinette wrinkled her nose at him. 

“Guilty,” Luka winked. “But don’t tempt me while I’m on the clock. I’m still a professional here.”

“Right,” Marinette said, reaching up to smooth her hair as she blushed. “Sorry.” She shuffled back a step, but didn’t turn to go. For a moment they just looked at each other, neither sure what to say. Piano music floated down the hallway; Louis hadn’t shut the studio door, and Luka laughed to himself as he recognized the tune of _What’s Up Danger_. “Wonder where he found piano music for that,” he murmured to himself, and Marinette giggled. 

“The internet, probably. He’s pretty resourceful when he wants to be. Or maybe Adrien helped him find it.” She shook her head. “I should be mad at you,” she said, poking him lightly. “You could have warned me. About the whole ‘new look’ thing.”

“Ah, I probably should have,” Luka sighed, dropping his head back. “Sorry. I forgot. I don’t know, though, maybe it’s better this way. That he talked to you about it himself. Sorry if he blindsided you, though.” 

Marinette shrugged. “It was a surprise, but it shouldn’t have been. He’s getting old enough to have opinions of his own on that kind of thing. I’m just happy he’s still willing to work with me on it. I don’t mind designing something more to his taste but I’d be pretty depressed if he refused to wear anything I made.” 

“Why would he do that?” Luka grinned. “His mom’s the best.”

Marinette blushed again and put a hand over her face. “Stoooop,” she whined, and Luka chuckled. 

“Yeah, I better.”

A familiar pattern knocked on the door before Marinette could answer, and Marinette stepped aside so Luka could open it. 

“JP,” Luka grinned, greeting the boy standing there with a complicated high-five hand-shake fist bump. He raised a hand and waved to JP’s aunt, who waved back out of the car window before driving off, swerving around the town car still waiting for Marinette at the curb. 

“I should—I should go,” Marinette said, squeezing past him and backing down the walk. “I’ll be back to pick up Louis later. Obviously.” Luka caught her arm and she blinked up at him.

“Step,” he reminded her with a lopsided smile, and she flushed as she took the small step down before pulling her arm away. “See you later,” he said, and she turned and waved awkwardly. Luka lingered on the doorstep, watching her get back in the car. 

A cough by his elbow wiped the goofy smile off his face. Luka looked down and saw JP looking back at him with raised eyebrows. “Inside, punk, come on,” Luka muttered, shoving at the kids shoulder, and JP snickered as he went past him. 

“Louis,” Luka called as they neared the studio, and the piano music stopped. “This is Jean-Paul Locke.”

“Louis Agreste,” Louis said formally, getting up from the piano bench and holding his hand out. JP gave Luka a look that asked, ‘Is this guy for real?’ but at Luka’s nod, he reached forward and shook Louis’ hand.

“Call me JP,” he said—mumbled, really, keeping his head down. Then he glanced up and smiled a little. “I like your shirt.” 

“Thanks,” Louis grinned. “I like your shoes.” 

JP grinned back, shuffling his graffitied kicks. “Thanks.”

“Get plugged in and tune up, JP,” Luka said, and JP let the guitar case he was carrying slide off his back. “I want you guys to listen to something.” 

He got out the CD Nicoline had given him and put it in the player, watching the boys out of the corner of his eye. JP was a couple of years older than Louis, and while Luka had a complicated relationship with the word ‘prodigy,’ it fit more than it didn’t. Luka tried not to have favorite students, but JP was...a kindred spirit. He might struggle more than Louis with the technical part of making music, but Luka had never heard him play anything that didn’t come from his heart. He made everything he played his own, and Luka felt Louis had the same potential. He was hoping JP’s example would help Louis connect with his own music. 

When JP looked up from his guitar, Luka started the music. 

Nicoline hadn’t been lying about how good her student was. Her voice was clear and powerful, though still not quite mature, but she had that _something_ that just hit you in the gut. Luka agreed with Nic, she was the real deal, and when he looked at the boys, he had to smile. Louis’ eyes were round, and JP looked impressed. 

“Shit,” commented JP, when the music ended. Louis’ mouth dropped open and he turned to stare at the older boy. Luka sighed and smacked the back of JP’s head on his way to shut off the player. 

“Come on, man, don’t make me be the swear police,” Luka admonished, and JP hunched slightly. 

“Sorry. Just. Pretty nice pipes, that’s all.” 

Luka hummed agreement, hooking a rolling stool with his foot and pulling it underneath him so he could sit and face the boys. “So, that’s the assignment. I want you guys to back Dez in the Spring Concert, if you’re up for it.” 

“Dez?” JP snickered, and Luka rolled his eyes.

“Yes, _Jean-Paul_ ,” Luka said, with a pointed look and JP made a face. “So,” he continued. “Let’s see what you guys can do together.”

Louis and JP looked at each other, and back at Luka, and he just grinned. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, leaning back on his stool and waving towards the piano. “Play.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Whatever you want. Just jam together for a bit.” 

“But…” Louis began, looking between Luka and JP. 

“Talk about it,” Luka encouraged. “Work it out. Or, you know, one of you can just start playing and the other one can join in. Go for it.” 

The boys just stood there, and finally JP rubbed a hand through his spiked hair. “You, um. You know Fallout Boy?” 

Louis perked up. “Like, Big Hero 6?” He went to the piano and played a section of Immortals. Luka brought up a hand to rub his chin, covering his smile. 

“Wow, you’re kind of a nerd, huh?” JP chuckled, but he went and perched on the piano bench, kicking his amp cord out of the way. “Sweet. Keep going, but pick up the tempo a bit.” He began tapping a rhythm out on the floor with his foot, and Louis increased his pace to match it. “Yeah, yeah,” JP muttered, bobbing his head, and his fingers began to move on the guitar. Louis looked at him, mouth dropping open slightly, and missed a note. Flushing at the mistake, he turned quickly back to his own playing. 

Luka let the boys have fun for a little while, and then gave them the music they would actually be using for the spring concert, explaining that he wanted the boys to learn it as written first, and then they could talk about any changes or creative flairs they wanted to try. 

JP’s aunt was there on the dot to pick him up, and he said goodbye to Louis with an easy grin, swatting Louis’ offered handshake away in favor of a fist bump. Louis was still at the piano when Marinette arrived a few minutes later. He jumped up from the bench, ran two steps, then remembered himself and did sort of an awkward power-walk to the door. “Come on, Maman, I gotta go home and practice some more!” he said, the written music held tightly in his hand. He remembered Luka and paused just long enough to say goodbye before opening the door himself and speeding towards the car.

“He looks really excited,” Marinette giggled, following him out of the door a few steps. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty exciting, the first time you play with somebody you really vibe with,” Luka chuckled, leaning on the door frame. “Good, that’s what we want to see. Now I just gotta find them a drummer.” His thoughts wandered for a moment as he considered the possibilities, and when he focused on Marinette again she was smiling at him with a soft look in her eyes that made him swallow. “Can I call you later?” he asked impulsively, and she blinked back to reality, cheeks tinting pink when she realized what he’d said. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she replied, and looked like she might have said more, but Louis was suddenly hanging out of the car window, yelling for her to hurry up. Marinette’s lips pursed in a frustrated (but cute) pout. “Rude,” she called back to Louis, who rolled his eyes and popped back in the window. It was more like a kid than Luka had ever seen him act and he couldn’t help laughing, which caused Marinette to turn that pout on him. 

Luka entertained a brief fantasy of completely grossing Louis out by kissing her stupid right there on the step, but instead he said quickly. “You better go. I’ll call you later. Bye, Marinette.” 

He stepped back inside, barely managing to wait for her soft, “Bye, Luka,” and for her to walk back to the car before he shut the door and scrubbed his hands over his face with a sigh. They were supposed to go out again the following week, and he really wasn’t sure he could wait that long. 

* * *

A few nights later, he was about to go to bed when someone knocked, loudly, on his front door. Frowning, Luka went to open it, thinking perhaps a neighbor had gotten locked out or something. 

He had the barest instant to take in Marinette standing on his doorstep, styled and made up and wearing a distractingly well-fitting black dress and a distressed expression, before she burst out, “I don’t want to see anybody else.” She stood there, shifting from foot to foot and breathing fast, and for a moment Luka could only stare, blinking stupidly, and Marinette opened her mouth to speak again, but he held up a hand and stopped her, stepping back and motioning her inside.

Marinette swallowed whatever she’d been about to say and stepped inside. Luka closed the door behind her and took her hands, drawing her further inside so they weren’t standing in the echoing hallway. “Okay,” he said, squeezing her hands. “What’s going on?” 

“I just, um...I had a date tonight and…” 

“Did he hurt you?” Luka demanded, face darkening. 

Marinette’s eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently. “No! No, no, of course that’d be the first thing you asked with me showing up like this and—No, I promise it was nothing like that, it was fine, actually, it was all fine—good, even, but...I just…” Marinette shrugged helplessly. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Luka said, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing lightly. 

To his surprise she took a step forward and slipped her arms around him and squeezed tight, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It is now.” 

Luka was still extremely confused, but he put his arms around her and held her until she squirmed to get free, pulling away from him. He let her go and she took a step back and a deep, shuddering breath, and then put her hands out to him. Luka wrapped his own around them, rubbing the backs lightly with his thumbs, and waited. 

“This was maybe the...fourth guy I’ve gone out with?” Marinette frowned in thought. “Something like that. And...they’ve all been fine. It’s like you said, you know, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I had fun, mostly, but…” She flushed suddenly and bit her lip, looking away. Luka squeezed her hands gently. 

“I kept thinking how much more fun I’d be having if I was with you,” she said finally, quietly. “Even tonight, this guy, it was our third date, and he was nice enough, just...he wasn’t you, and when he tried to kiss me, I just...I didn’t want to. And then I got in the cab to go home and instead I came here.” She took a deep breath and looked up into his face. “I know you said I should date other people—” 

“Only if that was what _you_ wanted,” Luka broke in, squeezing her hands a little tighter, trying not to show how his own heart had begun racing, the fluttery feeling in his belly.

“It’s not. I don’t want to, Luka. I just...I just want to b-be with you,” she stammered a bit, turning red again. “I, um, oh, _shit,_ ” she hissed, stamping her foot and looking away from him, and Luka had to bite his lip to contain the laughter that wanted to burst from him. 

“Take your time,” he said, not entirely without chuckling. 

“I don’t want to date anybody else,” Marinette said, looking up to his face and suddenly looking very calm. “I just want to see where this takes us. I don’t want to have _plans_ when you ask me to get coffee. Well, what I mean is, I don’t want to waste time I could be spending with you with someone else.” She paused, and then added in a rush, “And I really want you to be the one kissing me.” 

Luka nodded slowly, a smile growing on his face. “I’m cool with all of that,” he said, and then added, “More than cool. I’m really happy, Marinette.” 

“So, we can, um, be a couple?” she dropped her gaze, but he could see her smile. “Um, exclusively?” 

“We can be whatever you want,” he said, letting go of her hand to brush his thumb along her cheek. She looked up again and his thumb brushed her lower lip, sending a jolt through him. “I’m good with whatever label you want to put on us,” he continued, a little roughly, and he had to clear his throat. “I didn’t want to say it at the time because—well, I’ve been told I can get a little intense and I didn’t want to freak you out, but I was never planning on dating anybody else. I’m in this to the end, whatever that turns out to be. I want to be the one kissing you, for as long as you’ll let me.” He took a breath. “Was that too much?” 

“No,” Marinette murmured, her free hand coming up to curl around his wrist. “You are intense, that’s true, but...I like it. I like it a lot, Luka. I always appreciate how patient and careful you are with me but I think there’s something you need to understand about me.” She took a step forward and leaned gently into him. “I overthink things a lot, and sometimes I get nervous and run off at the mouth, and I definitely have some issues around relationships and intimacy, but...I’m not fragile. I can handle you. If it gets too much, I’ll tell you, but...I’m not really worried. Not about that, at least.” She sighed and slid her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Now I left the taxi waiting, so can you walk me to the door and then I can get my goodnight kiss from the man I really wanted it from? From...my boyfriend?” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “That sounds so...high school.” 

“I like it,” Luka said roughly, pressing his forehead to hers. “I like it a lot.” 

“Then it’ll do,” she whispered, and then slid her hands to his shoulders. “Now walk me to the door because if I kiss you here I’ll never make it home.”

“That’s a problem?” Luka only half joked as she took his hands again and tugged him along. “Hey, who’s walking who here?” 

“You weren’t moving,” she giggled. 

“Why would I want you to leave?” he teased. 

“Mm, so I can go brag to everybody about my hot new boyfriend?” Marinette leaned back against the door, pulling him closer with a double handful of his t-shirt. 

“Now that really does sound like high school,” Luka laughed, bracing one hand against the door as he leaned over her. Marinette tipped her head up, and he kissed those red lips, reveling in the way she sighed and pressed into him, in her lush, full lips, the smooth softness of her cheek and neck under his rough fingers as his thumb traced the elegant line of her jaw. Then her lips parted under his and she reached up and laced her fingers behind his neck, pulling him down into her, and she shifted her weight off the door until she was pressed against him. Luka slipped his hand from her face to wrap around her waist and pull her even closer, his hand still on the door steadying them both and grounding him, giving him the strength to finally pull back when he really would just as soon have suffocated if it meant kissing her a little longer. It took more than a moment for them to both catch their breath, both taking in each other’s disheveled appearances. Luka in his significantly more rumpled pajamas, the faintest trace of her expensive lipstick staining his mouth, his eyes hooded and his hair a wreck, and Marinette’s gorgeous blue eyes gone glassy and dark, her delectable mouth kiss-bruised, and—okay she really, really needed to go right now. Apparently she reached the same conclusion at that moment, because she reached back and fumbled for the door handle. Luka got there first and opened it for her. 

“Text me, let me know you got home safe?” he managed to get out, aware that he was grinning like a fool. 

“I will,” she flashed a bright smile at him that made his racing heart skip several beats, and he watched her until she was in the taxi before closing the door with a sigh. 

No way he was sleeping now. Luka went straight for his guitar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually hate writing long authors' notes but I have some apologies and explanations to make, so it's a bit unavoidable today. Sorry about it, bear with me please. 
> 
> I'm sorry that this chapter took so long. I was ten thousand words into it, and I hadn't even covered a fraction of my chapter outline, and something wasn't sitting right. I had to take a little time to think about it, and finally I realized I was jumping a bit farther ahead in the relationship than really worked, and I needed to back up and address some things. In the meantime, Killer Combo, which was just supposed to be a fun little side project, kind of became a monster, and I had a lot more momentum there, so I finally decided just to concentrate my effort and finish it up rather than slowing both stories down by trying to do both at once. Posting both at the same time was a misjudgment on my part; I thought KC was going to be a one shot, and then I thought it was going to be a few parts, and then it turned out like, massive. No regrets about that, except that it meant this story, which is heavier and more complex, got put aside for a bit. Oops. I'm usually pretty on target with my chapter estimates but these two stories kinda blew that away.
> 
> So, you might have noticed that I've upped the chapter count for this story. I think it's actually a bit excessive? I don't expect it to be more than 8 chapters based on what I have so far. But, I have been so massively wrong in the last little bit that I thought I'd better give myself some wiggle room. 
> 
> I really hate going months between posting chapters and I usually wait until I've got enough of a story written that I can be confident I can post every week or couple of weeks. Obviously, I miscalculated badly here, so here's what I'm going to do. I wanted to get this chapter out for you all both so you would have some reward for being patient to this point, and so I could explain why it was taking so long and tell you that there will probably be another considerable gap before the next chapter comes out. Hopefully not as long, but I can't make any promises. I'm going to wait to post the rest of the story until I'm once again confident that I can post the remaining chapters relatively close together. There's a lot of Chapter 6 written (because it's all stuff I intended to put in chapter 5 and decided to postpone) and some of 7. I think it's going to make it to at least 8 just based on the length of what I have so far (hopefully waiting until it's closer to finish will also help me split it up into more reasonable sized chunks). 
> 
> I'm also really sorry that I haven't been as responsive to comments as usual, but I read and appreciate every one, and I try to at least answer questions even if I don't get a chance to come back and say "thanks for commenting!" I do appreciate every one who reads this fic.
> 
> If you'd like to keep tabs on what I'm working on, you can pop over to [quickspinner.tumblr.com/tagged/wip report](https://quickspinner.tumblr.com/tagged/wip%20report) to see my latest status posts.


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